The Reckoning
by TrueLeaf
Summary: It's been a while since Zim has landed on Earth. Actually, while, is too small of a word to describe how long he's occupied the residence among the humans. His inability to create ideas that work is what creates his laziness. Though soon, he will receive an unsuspecting surprise. One that, in it's wake, will leave pain, desolation and sorrow. A justly punishment for the sinful.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: "Surprise!"**

******This actually turned out a lot longer than expected...Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy.**

Zim sauntered out of the schoool doors, while the other maniacal children blundered through them with the cacophony of screams and outbursts of excitement; They were happy that schoool was over. Zim was familiar with the sort of emotion of relief—though in their cases, relief would be just an understatement—those children displayed so enthusiastically and, rather inharmoniously, but it wasn't to the same degree that he had them; He accepted the ways of the schoool and learned it was to educate, very much similar to the programs in his PAK device that was lodged into his spine by Control Brains. In that aspect, he had a small, diminutive, amount of respect, especially since how much more he learned about the ways of the planet's history and past mistakes. However, in sequence, he was always revolted by it's staff and the disposition of the entirety of the schoool. It was disgustingly filthy and was a human-infested lieu that was less sanitary than the Foodcourtia itself.

The bus lied apoplectic in front of the school yard, while it's engine was humming and vibrating the vehicle. The children made their way towards it with screaming and running. As Zim was making his calm way past the other lunatics, Dib could be spotted in the middle of the line forming in front of the bus. He had his eyes locked in his face and Zim was quite used to his nemesis' endemic to stare. A while back, he also used to have the habit of blurting out random threats and insults, however it died down as time progressed. Even their confrontations had dissolved into silent glare contests or even coincidental glances that so happen to contain a certain amount of dislike.

If they were to randomly bump into one another, they would quickly, if dropped anything, pick up their prostrated items and then be compelled to force the event from their minds. Zim didn't mind it this way, and he most certainly viewed it as an opportunity to advance in his studies and work to overcome the human race. But in a way, he suspected underlying plans that Dib conceived in order to stop him from achieving his goals. He remained quiet about his thoughts, however he wouldn't be caught with his guard down.

" You've been ditching school lately." Dib remarked as Zim passed by. He stopped walking but he didn't turn to face him, as he was beside him. A crooked smirk appeared. " I know you're planning something."

" Too bad that no one else believes you. " Zim said, placing his hands at his waist, knowing the reaction he would get. Dib turned to look at him.

" I won't let my guard down. Any wrong move and you're over." Dib said. Zim huffed at this.

" For good reason." He remarked. Dib furrowed his eyebrows.

" What does that mean?" he said concerned.

"…It will be the "Surprise of the year"...Just you wait." Zim smiled. He made his way quietly passed the conjugation and continued his way home, leaving Dib to worry about the small information they just shared.

· · ·

Zim opened the door to his small house and closed it behind him, now feeling safe to the hideous, shadowed prying eyes of the other humans and _neighbors_. To exert the feeling, he locked the door.

He turned around and continued his way past the living room, where Gir was watching television nonchalantly, but at times he would squeal and giggle from the asinine comedy or stupidity it broadcasted.

" Gir, if someone rings the door bell, do not answer it, come and get **me**." Zim said, as well as a shake of his fist. Though immediately afterwards he had doubts and second thoughts. " On second thought, Gir, _you_ answer the door. I'm not in the mood to view upon another _filthy_ face." Zim said and continued on to the kitchen.

" Okay." He responded sub-consciously. He had a feeling of doubt and insufficient satisfaction in his answer, per usual, but over the past…well, the amount of time he had occupied this residence, nobody, other than Dib and Keef, ever felt the need to lay their hands on the door. And Dib hasn't been on the offensive for a while. So in sequence, he felt comfortably copacetic. Zim continued to the toilet and sprung on the top of the lid. He reached his hand to the lever and pulled it. He slowly sunk into the cylindrical bowl and declined further underground.

Zim was soon falling into room of his observatory room and landed abruptly and harshly against the floor. He rushed to the seat and hopped on to the smooth leather. He repositioned himself to gaze through his remarkably gigantic telescope and adjusted the settings and lenses.

" Computer: On." He renounced the command. And immediately, a system had started up, running the engine with a light mechanical routing sound. Zim looked through the lens of the telescope again and viewed it's contents, as a screen was starting to appear.

" Computer, I would like you to find Invader Flobee. It's been a while since I last updated upon him, and as well as the others." Zim said.

" Update to system available; Start the updating process?" The computer asked.

" No, I said find Invader Flobee." Zim said.

" Locating coordinates…locating coordinates." The computer stated and repeated itself in a very monotonous fashion. Zim kept his eye in the glassy face of the eyepiece for a while until the expected results were not occurring. Zim crossed his arms and removed his vision from the device, as he noticed how conspicuously long he had been waiting; His computer was supposed to be extraordinarily advanced and manufactured in such a way that it surpassed the complexity and even the intellectuality of one's own brain. How could it possibly have been having issues locating one Irken? Then, almost like an assessment of his own mind, the system sounded out an error beep, which droned for a split second before stopping.

" Identity known, location not found." The computer replied.

" What? Computer, find Irken Invader Flobee!" Zim shouted. He was becoming impatient; he always detested how many of the complications and errors would always surface to his knowledge, and yet he wouldn't know how to solve them. Even though if his computer was fabricated to analyze the impediments and diagnose it for a solution, he never liked something occurring without knowing why it happened in the first place. Plus, how can it recognize Flobee's identity but not find his current inhabitance?

The system responded in protest, with another error beep.

" Identity known, location not found."

" Curse you…Ach, find invader Stink." Zim said and massaged his brow with his index and middle finger in circular patterns, leaning back at the backrest of his chair. With a much shorter space of time of the computer analyzing the location, it droned on the error beep.

" Identity known, location not found." He growled.

" What is this? Computer, find Invader Skutch!" Zim said, pressing his clenched hands at the ends of the arm rests of his seat, and leaned forward into the lenses of the large scope. The pause was even shorter before it sounded the error beep.

" Identity known, location not found."

" Invader Zee! Find her!" He exclaimed.

" Identity known, locat—"

" Curses, you maligned, piece of trash!" Zim ground his teeth and removed his eye from the lenses. He tapped his fingers against the leather arm rest in annoyance. This was becoming out of control, there was no plausible explanation why the other invader's location could not be found, they were dwelling in the planets of the nearest locations to earth, however he knew that it wasn't in lieu of the computer's miscalculations; it clearly knew their identity, possibly down the DNA strand, but it was just they appeared to be missing from their common coordinates. He thought more pensively about the subject.

" Computer; disable the saved preliminary search coordinates and search for new coordinates of Invader Zee's location." Zim commanded.

" Disabling preliminary coordinates…Disabling preliminary coordinates complete." The computer droned, and a small higher success quirk sounded before continuing to it's next task. " Finding new current coordinates…Finding—New current coordinates found from Irken Invader Zee; Location: Irk. Coordinates approximately x: 23442.4223245; y: 654390.321. Set new coordinates as preliminary coordinates?" The computer asked.

" No." Zim simply said before he thought about the information he'd received. What was Invader Zee doing back at Irk? Had she already finished her mission? The thoughts made sense but he was confused on why his computer couldn't find new coordinates until he had to command it; It was already set so that when coordinates didn't match her usual location, it would have to look elsewhere before reporting errors of not knowing her destination. Then, he had heard a voice over his overhead speakers. They were beeping and the computer voice spoke

" Receiving transmissions from the Irken Armada." The voice spoke. Zim was surprised; frankly, he was more shocked. He'd never had incoming calls from the Irken spaceship itself. He was also surprised how they'd contact him on such short notice…not that they needed to advice him beforehand.

" Computer: Bring me to my Monitor room!" Zim commanded, and immediately he was sucked up into the small, pink glass cylindrical tube and was transported to another location. After being cast at his destination, Zim landed at the middle of his Monitor room, managing to hurt his knee and ankle in the process; this was closely the second time he'd used his traveling ports in such a hurry. He ran to his grandiose screen, and sat upon his chair, The screen, which he used mainly for two-way video communication, was flashing purple words that named the locality of where the transmissions were coming from. He pressed a few buttons and on it displayed the general pilot room of the spaceship; as well as the Tallest. However, Zim took notice to how Purple was missing; he quickly dismissed the thought and stood up and addressed the leader.

" My Tallest! I didn't expect for you to call upon me…w-what may I help you with?" Zim asked, as well as slowly adjusting his posture to be more straight.

"…What is—Is that your disguise?" Red said with furrowed eyes, perhaps from confusion. Zim however felt a chill pass down his spine; How could he have forgotten about his own disguise?

" ah…uh, yes! it is." Zim said, uncomfortably. Red blinked from disbelief.

"…And the humans can't tell the difference between you and their native ones?"

"…No, they believe my lies…Other than one, called _Dib_…" Red paused again before he shook his head. He didn't have any more to say, and Zim could tell that he was indifferent and a bit fatigued. With what? Zim wasn't sure.

" I…uh…shall go change." Zim said and hurriedly removed himself from the spot and to the way left of the room, where the screen wasn't far enough in breadth to reach. He removed the horrid wig he wore and the irritant eye contacts, in slight rigidness. Zim then made his way back to the middle of the monitor and Red was waiting patiently, however, quite insouciantly.

" Can I…help you with anything?" Zim asked, shifting on his feet.

" Well, Zim, I came to…_see_ how you were doing." He responded. He was sitting at the main chairs, while at his left was empty, he seemed rather disinterested. He had a smirk on his face and judging from his countenance, he was a little tired.

" Why, the progress is coming slowly, but I tell you now, that things are going to _change_ on earth! I will eventually manipulate all beings just in time for your arrival with the Armada!" Zim said proudly. Proud enough to raise a fist to deem worthy about his progress. " Worry not, My tallest, for I—"

" Slowly, huh?" He remarked, apathetically. Red blinked a couple of times and drank from a straw from the cup that he was clutching in his right hand. He did this in a indifferent fashion and it made Zim feel a little self-conscious. He put down his fist and set at his side again; Red was not impressed by what he saw.

" Ah…yes, uh, slowly, but I assure you that by within the space of a few weeks, I _will_ subjugate every filthy human being on this dirt-infested planet—"

" mm-hmm." Red hummed quietly. Zim was interrupted again, which clearly showed Red's lack of interest and caring towards the matter. His concentration was focused more in his snack cup, in spite of the conversation he'd started with him, not even a minute ago. Zim glanced around the interior of his room and rubbed the back of his head. He was beginning to realize how vacant this giant room was. Zim released a quiet cough and looked back up at the giant screen. He didn't know what to say. Though Zim could feel the strain in his right ankle; it was beginning to ache more.

" Do you know what day it is, Zim?" Red asked, looking down at his snack cup and rimming his finger across the thin plastic circle of the straw. Zim let his question bring up his awareness of the day of the week it was.

" Um…Tuesday? Wait—no, Rolrork!" Zim said. _Blast it! I've been becoming too familiar with the Human calendar!_ Zim thought and desired urgently to smack himself on his brow. Red had glanced at him when he had to correct himself, and didn't seem too happy about it. It was a bit of disappointment for him, and an airy sigh left his mouth. And in that method, it slightly embarrassed Zim.

" That's not correct." Red said, turning his eyes back to the drink. Zim felt like he had no other alternative but to head on with the truth; He didn't know what he wanted, let alone understand what he meant.

"…I…uh, I don't know exactly what you're trying to get across." Zim replied with a—hopingly—indistinguishable gulp. Red's eyes glanced back to Zim, with his head unmoved.

" You don't know?" He asked. Zim paused momentarily, and shook his head.

" It's the holidays, Zim! remember?" Red boomed with animate spirit, slightly startling Zim. However, He could tell it was a bit of a guise. " Probing day, one of the most important holidays of our culture!" He added.

" I—yes, yes! It is!" Zim agreed.

" I am here to hear about your _magnificent_ tactics and machinations of which you shall complete to overcome that planet during while we are in preparation of our coming!" He said, lifting his arms up in a—fake?— Joy. Zim needed to match his excitement.

" Yes! And I shall not disappoint, My Tallest!" He exclaimed, raising his fist. After a while, Red sighed and his level of emotion dropped instantly back to the bored, unenthusiastic degree, which only made Zim look more clueless. Caught in complete ignorance, Zim lowered his fist again and lowered his antennae. He was making a fool of himself! And so effortlessly.

" You don't get it…Do you?" He asked, rhetorically…perhaps.

" I…um…"

" It's been a year. A _year_, Zim!" Red remarked. " Don't you remember _last year's _Probing day? It's been _that_ long since you've said you'd conquer that planet, and you _still_ haven't? Not even a _little_?" He asked, genuinely confused. There was a small pause before he scoffed and rested the side of his cranium against his palm, and shook his head. Zim's natural defense kicked in.

" My Tallest, this planet is not as it seems! I may have said that these humans are _stupid_, but they have more than one race and region a-and language! Not to mention this, disgusting, Dib human that opposes me!" Zim cried. " I will need to travel to numerous of countries to gather more information and acquire tactics for the job I create—"

" Zim, if you were to do that, _when_ we had last Probing day, you _surely_—**_S_**_**urely**_—would've been done and on your way to go!" He said exasperatedly. " If you haven't noticed, the other Invaders aren't at their destined planets. They're back here, and we're celebrating their victories. Purple is out there at the council hall giving out awards and of such things…snacks." He said, and the last word incited a recent memory, and as he remembered the drink in his hand, he lifted it and drank a little more.

" Wait, if the other Invaders just got back, then wouldn't my mission be more tangible to accomplishment? I can finish within _days_, sir! _days_!" Zim said, gesturing with his hands. Red only lifted his eye in suspicion.

" They didn't just get back, Zim, they've been back for the longest time now. They finished long before scheduled plans and they've already been publicly deemed as good invaders. They finished _last year_, Zim. Today is just a remembrance day for them." He explained. " And if you can finish _now_ in days, why couldn't you before?" He questioned.

" I…I've been having this idea, and I've already made the blueprints and I have started construction, partly finished, however it still needs some tempering…but…I can still do it! I promise!" Zim said.

" Zim, Operation Impending Doom II is _over_…O.I.D.2 or short." He remarked and cleared his throat. " We've already conquered the enemy planets the other Irken Invaders brought down and _you_ are the only one that's _left_." Red said with another sigh. Zim felt his limbs begin to tremble slightly. _Darn it! Cowardice and Insolent Desperation! You dare enter me?_

" Sir, give me a few days, and I promise I _will_ have this planet for the taking!" Zim said, trying to re-express his abilities to The Tallest so that he could weigh options, and possibly change his mind. His left knee beginning to make him suffer and regret the option of standing up.

" What did you expect, Zim? You waited for too long. Even if you could still conquer earth, You would have to wait for months before the Armada even got close towards there. If we were to leave now, You would have to postpone your _days-plan-of conquering _until the right time. Either way, they're not possible to happen."

"…But…My Tallest, I…You can have the planet jackers to arrive! Yes! And they can transport the planet—"

" No, Zim, we…" Red stammered before sighing. He became more frustrated with Zim's childish persistence. It reminded him of a Irken smeet wanting it's snack. He placed his fingers at the space between his eyes and took a deep breath. Red was trying his hardest to not blurt out what shouldn't be said. On Purple's accounts, Zim should never know. But it was clearly becoming more challenging. His closed eyes reopened and an expression of impatience was vivid.

" Zim…You clearly express the mandatory feelings of that of in Irken Invader. Feelings that are titled determination, perseverance, complaisance and genuine enthusiasm in your mission. And the tactics of yours were clearly _expressed,_ or should I say, _executed_, in the first O.I.D. The one thing that you don't seem to realize is your limited mental capacity, which followed by your rather _rampant_ emotions, creates you to be a blind fool;

" You struck out on allied, or **should** I say **Our own** **Territory**. You're foolishness has blinded you then, and still blinds you to this day, reason being of your misunderstanding of my, rather, **distinct** and **evident **explanations on why you are _**dismissed**_ from this mission. And any _**future**_ missions." Red said, leaning forwards slightly.

"…My Tall… I can prove to you my ideas! I will show you my blueprints and what I will do in order to—"

" For the gods sake, Zim! Your service of the O.I.D II is no longer required! We have taken over enemy territory—"

" Not this one! Not yet! Allow me to conquer this last one—"

" That isn't enemy territory **now**, it wasn't enemy territory **then**, neither was it marked for the Irken Armada Planet jackers treaty! It belongs to the planet jackers! To their _damned_ sun!" Red exclaimed, and immediately knew he was in some trouble, the words already slipped out and there was no going back. Zim was appalled. _They spoke of the truth? How was it that this planet wasn't for the Irken Armada? Was it some…arbitrary chance that I survived by finding this part of their galaxy? _

"…What?…My Tallest, was this not my designated planet that you sent me to?" Zim asked, quietly. If not mistaken, it was a weak-spine whimper. It shamed his pride to act like a wretch, but then he'd remembered the sticky note that wasn't on charted data, last year, at the beginning of O.I. .

The memory acted like a stimulus and shot a negative energy through his veins and created the feelings of hurt and loneliness. He kept his eyes on Red for a while before Red began to chuckle quietly. Then his hand shot up at his eyes and let out a burst of laughter.

" Oh to Hell with it! You don't know anything! Nothing!" Red asked, booming his voice and pointing his hand at him. Zim furrowed his eyes and felt petrified; what exactly was he implying that he didn't know about?

" Know about what—"

"_Missions_! Hear we are, speaking of _Missions_! For you! Do you know why you were sent to that planet Zim? In the _first_ place?" He said, bitterly amused. Zim was caught a bit off guard. He had to think a bit before answering.

" For the conquest of—"

" **No**! Zim! We sent you there to _abandon_ you! You went to that planet by _sheer_ luck. I—**We** never knew of that planet's existence until you sent your transmissions! And through all this time, you still were so clouded to even try and figure it out? Ha!" He exclaimed. " Oh, this is too much."

Red shortly remarked and rested his head against his palm with closed eyes. His devious grin released a few amused hiccups of laughter. Zim felt his insides shutter, and the feeling itself was sickening. Was it really true, he was just…banished? That he was sent away to be expectant to die? Zim thought about is and chortled.

" Surely this is a joke." He shook his head. " My Tallest wouldn't ever do something so…"

" So _what_, Zim? Dastardly? Treacherous?"

" You wouldn't plan to kill me!" He said, laughing. Red kept his eyes at Zim for a while before he shook his head from disagreement, the amusement he found now gone.

" Let's take a look into the past, into your criminal records and into the deep hidden archives, not known by the public…Or at least those not from the ones from Vort Research Station 9." He said icily. Zim almost gasped over the name.

" That…That was years before! It's no longer relevant—"

" Death is always _relevant _to criminals." Red said solemnly. His eyes were glaring deeply at Zim and he shook his head a bit.

" You can't hold me accountable over that! That was an experiment gone wrong!" Zim pleaded.

" Wrong is an **understatement**! Why don't you use that _excuse_ to the dead?" Red asked, scornfully.

" I never meant for their demise at that research lab!"

" Do you think that you can display your innocence in court by stating '_I didn't mean it_?' And it's not like you would do it in the first place! You respect your _pride_ more than you do the lives of others!" He remarked.

" Y-You can't kill me! I…I was authorized to conduct research and experiments in that Station! The following events were happenstance and unconditional! And even you blamed the incidents on the Vortians, on behalf of it occurring in their facility!"

" **Yes**, Zim, you were _authorized_ to manufacture _innovative_ ways for weaponry and military technology to **devour the Past Tallest**!" He yelled cynically. " And we blamed it on the Vortians, so that the other researchers wouldn't be held accountable on your behalf of your mistakes. And we didn't want to have it publicly known that one of our own _Irkens_ killed one of it's own Leaders!"

" I-It was an accident, I'm sure of it! One mistake can't possibly bring down the entirety of a valuable Invader!" Zim said.

" _What_ value do you hold? To _anyone_? You killed your own people…What sort of _respect_ do you think you have? You killed the past leaders, which is more than plausible cause for your execution, and then you strike at your own allies." Red remarked, bewildered that anyone could believe that they were blameless from _murder_.

The words that emanated from Red were stuck in Zim's mind, as he was trying his hardest to, somehow, find some underlying core, conniving joke.

"…It w-wasn't from intentional purpose!—" he chuckled uneasily and nervously.

" Then what _was_ it? You were just so _enthralled_ in your mission that you so happened to…**friendly fire**? Why don't you explain that to the _dead _or the _impaired_, Zim? Why don't you explain that you were _just in the mood_?" Red said, more solemn. " Surely _now_ they _must_ accept that _apology_."

His voice was starting to contain a very sardonic sting to it. One that was starting to make Zim tremble on the inside, affecting like a strong poison.

" You are a threat to our society. You're a defective Irken. You have been just as destructible, incompetent, and hopeless as you were as smeet. Many defectives are treated to be executed or having their PAK device removed and to be employed elsewhere. You…hoho, _You_!" The Tallest said, pointing his slender finger at him. " You were not only found with a defective PAK device, but you have senselessly _killed_ others!"

" I didn't mean—"

" **Accident**…or **Not**. You have been the doom of many. And yet you so blindly walk around as if you are innocent to your actions. And the only reason why you claim innocence now because you know it will jeopardize your mission, the only thing you _do_ care about. " He said bitterly.

"…A-Allow me to prove myself, My Tallest! Allow me to do this mission and to atone—"

" This…isn't…your…_mission_. You were never applicable for this, and you never will be. You were sent there to die; A reasonable punishment for one who'd done the same to many." Red said, lifting his chin in haughtiness. " And don't worry about your _impressionable_ personality." He said with an amused grin.

"You have been remembered and entitled the 'Surprise of the Year'. The 'Surprise' being the reaction of how one could be such a **pitiful** excuse for an Invader." Red said.

" If you were to return here to Irk, you will stand trial to everything you've done, to the last small detail. You're culpability to those events are higher than you think." Red said, his eyes sharing the equal amount of malice that his words spat out at him, glaring at him with intense loathing. " And you will experience a punishment worst than death." He threatened.

With the tempest of his overruling emotions and with the indescribable intensity of his distress, Zim had tried to defend himself with far-fetched explanations and pleas to try and force the idea how he could recompense, for the sins he hadn't consciously realized about until now. But the agitation of his mind and his unclear thoughts that shrouded his head, as well as the uneasiness and despondency that was quaking his body, was prohibiting him from speaking, holding back his tongue and the words that never left his mind.

He was reduced to quiet stammering and shaking inhales. And once The Tallest was satisfied with the affect, He expressed it with a smirk.

" Hopefully I will _never_ see you again, Zim." He said, reaching for the controls.

" Wait!" Zim shouted, gripping at the edge of the counter. " Why…Why did you choose now to tell me about this? If you planned for my…death—Why didn't you tell me instead of making me believe I was on this mission?" Zim asked, endeavoring to keep his voice from cracking. Red's grin widened and he began chuckling again.

" Because it was _intriguing_, really. You had done so little for our planet and in fact ruined many parts _of_ it, and here you are trying your best to **be** the best." He said and scoffed. " You were so blinded by your devotion. You would do whatever you thought would make us proud. You would bow to our every whim, and you never **questioned** it." He said, almost amazed.

" We gave you _sticky-noted_ coordinates of a planet; gave no second thoughts. We gave you a robot seemingly more _stupid_ than anything else, called it _advanced_; gave no second thoughts." Red scoffed. " You didn't even received a damned invitation and you **came back**! You came **running **back here!" He bellowed from laughter. The rings of his hysteria were like needles to his ears; it made his throat restrict from anxiety, and he glanced down at the counter, and set his hands down.

" Oh I swear you're the most _defective_ Irken I've ever seen!" He exclaimed. Zim shook his head and he felt his knuckles shaking. He waited a while before speaking again.

" Why couldn't I find the other Irkens?" He asked, swallowing hard. " I…I searched them on my computer and they didn't appear…I—"

" Oh, Zim. You're so clueless, I can't even pity you." He said, his voice of amusement gone. " We did the Organic Sweep. You're computer is looking for the planets of their native names." He remarked, sighing. " And…well—native locations. Those planets were moved." He said. Zim glanced up from the counter.

"…T-The Organic Sweep?"

" Yes. You're computer identifies those planets by their old names and locations. Now that their names have been altered, the natives enslaved, and their locations removed, it doesn't recognize those planets anymore. After the Organic Sweep, we usually update our systems on the data and then the Massive sends out that updated information to other familiar Irken technology…Unfortunately, you received it too…but yet _still_ couldn't figure it out, neither was able to update your own system data." He said casually.

Zim had been overruling his emotions and after trying to suppress them for the time he did, they slowly began to simmer out.

" Just another reminder of how _slow_ you are, isn't it?" He asked rhetorically. Zim was looking down at the counter of the controls, but he knew that there would be another cynical grin plastered on his face.

He cut the communication, and the large screen turned to a black, void apparition in his sight. At that point, was when his feelings took control. His fingers were shaking to the point he couldn't stop them. His brow was layered in a cold sweat and he could hear his heart pounding. There was a perturbation impeding any fluid thought process, and it caused even more distress.

He couldn't recognize his confusion. For a reason, he couldn't understand the way the Tallest acted the way he did, Why he was so hateful. He couldn't recognize what he did wrong, what he did in the first place that was worthy of being punished and scorned at. The event unfolded so quickly that when it ended, Zim was left to count the seconds before he had realized the screen had gone black. It removed him into a state of shock that he held his breath and tried to breathe normally. He stumbled and shattered on the gained knowledge and asked questions that he didn't know the answers to.

He questioned if what had took place a few seconds ago was real. It came to the point where he questioned his ability to discern the obvious between the simple categories of real and fake. Where he thought he was dreaming, but the pain that was wrenching in his chest provided evidence that he wasn't. It was the pain that brought him back to reality, and that told him he was forever abandoned. It was the utmost discontent and rue that hollowed out his mind.

After a while, he tried to convince himself of vindication. Zim endeavored to try and disprove the words that accused him of wrongdoing, and he swore that it was by accidents those events had occurred. Zim persuaded that he wasn't guilty of those crimes. But nevertheless, it caused a breakdown.

Of which he couldn't prevent in any way. Zim fell slowly down onto his chair and covered his eyes with his arm. He felt the mortification and the guilt take severe levels as he uncontrollably seethed at how wronged he was, and how he didn't deserve any of the treatment he received.

He writhed in his distress; confused of why he was acting so hateful. Angry of how he'd lost all that he'd worked and cared for. And mostly remorseful at how true it _all_ was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: "Blooo prints"**

Dib had been noticing the disappearance of Zim for quite a while now. Even though he had been ditching school beforehand, never before was there a hiatus like this. It'd been going on for almost three weeks. Though there were sometimes where Zim would come to schoool, but always seemed to have a sort of glower about his face. And his aura was even more profuse and cold. Of course, if he were to in any way express his concern about the subject, he would be rewarded with insults on why he was just a creepy, little weirdo who was intolerant for the different. Oh, if only they could see through Zim; how wrong they would be. And for a reason, he got an uneasy suspicion that he was going to initiate the little plan he had. He didn't know what yet, but regardless, it wasn't anything safe. And annoyingly, it brought constant waves of paranoia and silent anxiety. He would look outside the school windows to insure that Zim wasn't there to do something.

He no longer shared his mind with anyone; Not even with Gaz. Mainly for the reasons is that no one would receive him seriously. It was ironically similar to the Boy who Cried Wolf, but in this case there was no deception or lying involved. And that was one of the things Dib hated about people. However he still had to hold the responsibility and keeping them safe, despite how much they insulted him and how they didn't believe them. Some way, some how, he would make them see.

Dib was doing his homework quietly, isolated in his dark room with the exception of the bright table light he was using. He couldn't concentrate on the homework; his mind was going over possibilities about Zim's plots to overcome the planet. He would sometimes catch himself astray, and would try to force himself to keep on working at the task ahead, school matters, or, "Schoool". Dib couldn't quite understand the inability the workers had to spell school right; In elementary, he remembered there was a k. Now in middle, there was one too many o's.

" Dang it." Dib muttered and placed his pencil at his desk. He put his hands at his forehead and sighed. He hated how much his mind wandered. First from possible threatening encounters or machinations from Zim, to the misspelling of school. Oh, the _correlation_.

He got up from his desk and stretched. He wasn't able to concentrate, and he knew his mind wouldn't relent on those persistent concerns and measures until he actually did something about it. He turned off his table light and left his bedroom into the living room. Dib walked passed the couch and headed for the closet for his shoes. Once he'd opened the door and grabbed his shoes, Gaz spoke out.

" Where are you going?" She asked.

" Out for a walk. Where's dad?" He responded. _Tch! That's what _normal_ people do. _Gaz muttered to herself, playing on her electronic a little while more before answering his question. " He's doing those experiments again." She remarked.

" You think he'd notice if I was gone?"

" If I told him…yeah, I think he would." She answered, sarcastically. But Dib knew that she was serious and a groan escaped from him.

" Don't tell him Gaz." Dib said defensively.

" Tell me where you're going." She countered.

" Why does it matter?"

" You know…I think Dad's about done with those experiments—"

" Okay, Geez! I'm going to Zim's house." Dib said, crossing his arms, waiting for the expected reaction.

" Why?"

" Nope. You said If I told you where I was going, you wouldn't tell—"

" Dad's only a level below us." Dib was starting to become irritated and he slapped himself on his head.

" He hasn't been to school in weeks. I'm going over there to make sure he's not trying to kill us all."

" I thought you were done with those stupid ideas about tracking him down." Gaz said, finally glancing up from her device and looking at him while she spoke.

" I never said that…And they're not stupid! You just don't believe me." He said crossly.

" Yeah…because they're stupid."

_That's it_. Dib thought. _I don't have time for this. I don't want to _waste_ anymore time with this_. Dib turned around and reached for the door knob.

" You know what? Tell Dad. I…I don't care anymore." He said with a fraud smile. He opened the front door and walked outside, closing the door behind him. He was starting to become really impatient with Gaz and her annoying little threats to get him in trouble if he didn't do a specific thing she wanted. He knew why already, but it was also at the same time hard to believe. He just wished that Gaz would soon grow up as well.

Dib shook his mind from the trivial matters and began to focus on what he would have to do if he encountered Zim. He didn't bring anything with him, and he knew if he were to walk back inside, there would be many scenarios of which could happen, mainly from past experience, A; Gaz locked the door. B; She would tell Dad. C; She would force him to tell him more reasons on why he was going to Zim's house. D; If Dib didn't tell her anyways from C, she would crush pills into his food. Ones that would make him sick, have insomnia, have diarrhea, or any other type she could find in their cupboards.

" Okay… Since I don't have my materials, I'd just have to do hand-to-hand combat if it ever came to the point. But I know he'd try to zap me or shoot me, or…sick his…alien little…minion thingy at me.." Dib thought and considered different possibilities. " Or if his…robot…thingy answers the door, I can just get him to give me Zim's plans on taking over the world…He's pretty stupid." Dib remarked. After a while he sighed disappointedly. " I need to stop talking to myself." He said, even taking a gander around him to make sure no one was around to hear his babbling. A wave of assurance came when he saw that no one was near, at least within the earshot vicinity.

He continued on until he got to the familiar sight of the abnormally small house, squished in between the other residences of poor, suffering humans. Dib huffed and glanced at each of the garden gnomes, remembering how they were programmed to shoot lasers from their eyes, or to pick people up and toss them to the sidewalk. He needed to be careful, alerting Zim's security system would only resolve in unwanted failure and Zim's suspicion.

However, he decided to try and continue on through the main walk anyway, striding up to his porch. He raised his hand to press a finger against the door bell button, but he paused momentarily to try and think of a better approach than what he was seconds away about to do. He was going to ask _Zim_ for his plans…Ask permission for access of his **plans**. It sounded insane to do something so implausible but then again, what else could he do? He had no weapons to threaten, he didn't have a phone to call the police…not that would work anyway, they would only laugh at him if he tried to warn them of their safety of extraterrestrial life forms coming to take over the planet, and really…He had nothing. Walking up to the door and demanding for his plans was the only option he had. As ridiculous as it sounded, he was about to do it anyway.

Dib pressed the doorbell and he could hear the ring permeate through the door. In this case, unprepared was kind of an understatement. The door opened and Dib looked down to see Zim's little minion in disguise, a green little dog. A feeling of relief passed through, knowing that his minion was more dumb than a rock.

" Hello…Zim's minion." He said casually.

" Are you Mary? Or Dib?" Gir asked in return. Dib took a few seconds to try and make out what he was trying to say to him. But he shook his head in confusion and lifted an eyebrow.

"…Excuse me?" He said.

" I think you're Mary." Gir remarked. Dib paused for another moment before deciding that trying to decipher what Zim's minion remarks meant was in vain. He shook his head again.

" Uh, I'm here to see if Zim has any plans to take over the world."

" You want to see Zim?" Gir asked, rising panic in Dib.

" What? No!—"

" ZIM! ZIM!" He screamed. Gir turned around and ran maniacally towards the kitchen, and then had jumped head first into the toilet, all the while his voice still audible even from within the tubes.

" Curse that stupid robot!" Dim yelled as he ran inside and looked for any sign of blueprints, or the like. For a reason he didn't know, it was plastered on the kitchen table, and for a moment it seemed too incomprehensibly lucky for those to be placed right there, but he ran nevertheless and snatched them off the table.

" You let him in the house!?" He heard Zim's voice boom, traveling through the toilet. Split second thoughts of complete confusion of why their voices were heard from the toilet and why Zim's robot had jumped in there in the first place entered his mind, but Dib immediately ran out the house, no time to stop and wonder at the randomness that occurred.

He slammed the door shut, to prevent them from seeing where he was headed. Instead of trying to run away to his house, Dib sharply turned to the left as he entered the sidewalk and sprinted to the neighbors house, and ran in their yard. He hid behind their wall and flattened himself against the side of the home. He heard the sound of the door behind opened forcefully and Zim's robot trying to explain why he committed the actions.

" You insolent idiot! He took my blueprints! Why do you never listen to me?!" Zim's yells echoed. Zim's robot's voice was audible, but Dib couldn't make out any words that he was saying; being too quiet. Then the door was slammed and all of the racket was stifled. Dib took a deep breath and sat upon the spot. He looked at the blue prints he'd stolen and tried to recognize the structure of Zim's ideas. Pictures were incorporated, however, the language was not so easily identifiable. It wasn't any sort of alphabet or sign he'd ever seen before, and it used symbolism and characters that he wasn't familiar with.

Back then, he would readily deem this worthy of unworldly constitution, and evidence of alien lifelike. Though now, he wasn't so leaned to say this was the composition of an alien language. He would study to see if this had any sharing linguistic characteristics to any other languages. Even though he knew it came from the hands of Zim, he wanted to make sure these documents were teeming with otherworldly evidence with untraceable origins known to mankind…and womankind.

Dib stood up and folded the blueprints, and stuffed them into his pocket. They bulged out rather distinctly, considering the bold framework of the paper, but he ignored it and took a peek from the wall to make sure they weren't outside or spying. However, from his angle, he wouldn't be able to see if they were spying. Dib wanted to run for it, but he also had the worried thoughts that Zim would be there to chase him. He decided to wait a while longer, until he would saw Zim leave the house; It was more than likely that he would search for his blueprints. It would jeopardize his mission.

Then he had heard a large, almost exploding sound emanate from Zim's house. Dib jumped from the stifled bang and immediately peeked over the wall. Nobody from that house was currently outside, but he couldn't tell what that sound was. Dib waited a while before he sat back down, concerned that the sound might've been an assault directed towards him. When he realized that it was probably just a weird occurrence, he sighed and sat back down.

Dib waited and glanced back at the house and waited again. Other times he would glance at the house again and then wait. It was a bit of a procedure in his case. Dib had to run when the family finally came back home, with their van. Their windows were clear and he saw their bewildered expressions when they saw him at the side of their house. He stood there for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights, and then dashed a way. It was awkward for everyone.

He ran all the way and stopped for nothing, even when his rapid breathing began to scratch his throat and ache his lungs. Well…He stopped for that. But he walked the rest of the way home when he no longer had the stamina; being only a block away from home.

" I'm such an idiot." Dib wheezed. He knew that he was right to panic and try and get away as quickly as possible, treating it like a crime scene as being the criminal, but he also knew that he wasn't physically adapted to straining himself from oxygen and suffering his limbs to move from the lack of energy. He wasn't unhealthy, but it didn't mean he was fit.

Dib sat down and held the side of his abdomen. It ached and he had an unrelenting side stitch. He had been overexerting himself and whenever he did so, he always regretted it. He had to wipe his brow a few times before he began to cool down, though he had sweat that clung on to his shirt.

" Why do I wear jackets all the time? It's summer!" He proclaimed. He slid the sleeves of his jacket off his arms and removed his jacket to cool off. After a while, He was able to regain his energy and catch his breath. He still had a slight wheeze to his breathing, making him sound asthmatic. Dib stood up and continued on home. He entered into his house and took off his socks and shoes and replaced them into the closet.

" I told Dad." She said, drinking from a can of soda, while watching TV. Dib rolled his eyes.

" I don't care—"

" Son!" His father said as he walked from the kitchen towards him. " There you are! I was starting to become worried. I thought that alien might've gotten you!" He remarked and laughed at his own joke. Dib sighed quietly at this and looked down at the floor; he would have to call it a lie, saying how he didn't care. It was already bad that nobody believed him about his paranormal investigations. It was worse when his own family made fun about it.

" Oh you know I'm joking. Come, let's go into the kitchen." He said and as he turned around, placed his hands behind his back in a formal fashion and walked away. Dib followed him, knowing that he would have to endure through the long speech his father was going to give him, about _real_ science and how to stop chasing childish dreams.

Dib sub-consciously listened to his father's grumbling and babbling and murmuring, or at least that was how Dib heard it, not directly paying attention to the words he was saying. Every once and a while, Dib would reply with _uh huh_, or _yes dad_, and he decided to keep his remarks positive, though there were some instances where Dib had said those words and there was an awkward pause. Dib wouldn't have known what his father had said, and so he would wait until his father continued talking.

Once his lecture was finally over, Dib headed over to his room and sighed. He took out the small, taut square and unraveled it. He sat at his computer and turned it on.

He had scanned the blueprints and sent the files to his computer. There he did research to see if there was any sort of connection it had with other human languages. After a few hours had passed, he went to the kitchen table after being called and ate dinner with his family. Per usual, his father was the only one who did the talking at the table, talking about his research and how much success or failure he was having. Dib only spoke if he had questions. Afterwards, he continued on with his analyzing. Gaz would sporadically check up on him and watch for a while, when he was studying the other languages and comparison. She would leave, but then after a while arrive again. She seemed to have a bit of an interest, despite her first comments on how desperate he was about the alien thing.

Though after a while, her visits stopped. He was able to work in silence and concentrate completely at task, but he began to feel tired. Dib rubbed his eyes and yawned. He saw that it was near 12 o'clock midnight. He was in need for sleep, having school tomorrow. And he knew that he could continue on tomorrow after school. So he saved the data on the computer and all the notes he took, and shut it down. He climbed into his bed, took off his glasses and closed his eyes.

· · ·

Dib woke up to the blaring sound of his alarm clock, Alerting him and bringing him out of his slumber. He slowly opened his eyes and saw it said 5:12. He always hated how early middle school started in the morning. He sighed, blinked and lifted his arm and turned off his alarm clock. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, while his other hand felt the desk for his glasses.

" Wake up son! You don't want to be late to school, now do you?" His father boomed as he entered the room. " The most important meal of the day is ready on the table!"

" Okay…Thanks dad." Dib murmured tiredly. He got up from his mattress and walked out of his room. He performed some of his perfunctory actions, like eating breakfast before brushing his teeth, and taking a shower. Afterwards he would get on his socks and shoes again, and if there was time leftover, he would listen to music or watch TV before he would have to leave to school. However, today, the performance of each of these activities were very sluggish and lazy. Dib was tired from the lack of sleep he had, especially since he had fallen asleep at 1 o'clock in the morning. As Dib brushed his hair, he noticed small bags under his eyes and he tried to splash water at his face to wake himself up. However, all it did was excite his nerves and cause his face to constrict to garner heat. Which in turn didn't help his condition.

Dib waited patiently and tiredly at the couch, as it was nearing 6:25 in the morning. He reminded himself again about how much he hated how early middle school started and how it was a very tiresome routine to get up everyday at 5:00. He usually began walking with Gaz to school at 6:30, where school would start then at 7:00. The only reason why they waited exactly until 6:30 is because when they would arrive at school, they would have to wait in the cafeteria, where there would be less things to do. And the cafeteria wasn't very clean.

Once it finally hit 30 at the dot, Dib and Gaz said their byes and departed on to school. Dib always appreciated the cool, morning breeze that would make his skin tingle, and it brought a sense of nostalgia sometimes, but today he was a bit too tired to notice it. It only made him more cold and he buttoned his jacket.

Walking to school brought some mental activity to go in his brain, processing on to move his legs, but he still found himself nodding off into sleep and he would have to wake himself up

" What time did you go to bed?" Gaz asked, with an air of disinterest. Dib just shook his head and blinked slowly. He consciously realized just how little sleep he had…4 hours. _Wow…That's…That's a record_. Dib thought to himself. Then he realized that Gaz has just asked him a question, and by instinct he shook his head. Though he didn't have the volition to ask about what she asked him about, so he hung his head low and wished the rest of the way to school to be able to sleep. _Man…what I do for this country…All in a day's work, I suppose._ The thought ran through Dib's mind and it formed a small smirk on his face.

· · ·

Dib woke up to the sensation of being poked at. He opened his eyes and realized sub-consciously he had been sleeping and immediately sat up. He felt a wetness on his cheek and noticed it was a small trail of drool. He tried to discreetly wipe his face with his jacket sleeve, so that other's wouldn't think that he had been sleeping. Soon he did the same with the desk. He knew that Gaz had woke him up, being the one at his right side, which he was sure the poking had emanated from that side. Plus, she would be the only one to care to do so. And in that way he thanked her. Dib blinked a few times and focused at the chalkboard ahead. The teacher had been wrapping up about the lecture of today's lesson and she seemed pretty happy. Her named was Ms. Pamela. However, he was glad that she wasn't Ms. Bitters. She would've spot any child sleeping a mile away, and she would always be able to notice any wrongdoing that occurred in her class. She had that sort of ability to do so. Almost like an eye in the back of her head.

Plus, Dib was also grateful to be placed in the back of the class. He liked the divided attention which was especially beneficial when you didn't want to be spotted doing anything embarrassing. Soon, the bell rang and all of the students stood up almost simultaneously. Dib sat up as well and gathered his materials and exited the class with everyone else.

" Dib!" Ms. Pamela called. He turned around and sieved through the crowd of kids and approached her desk.

" Yes?"

" Where's your homework dear?" She asked with a smile. Though it sent a knife through his brain. He remembered how before he went to Zim's house, he was doing his homework, but then he'd forgotten. Dib stayed silent for a moment to try and think of an excuse he could use but he shook his head when his mind wouldn't process any thoughts.

" I left it at my house…" Dib shrugged. Ms. Pamela's face twitched a bit hearing the response, her left eye more specifically. Her smile formed into a distorted frown and she stared at the wall. Then her eyes came back to his face and she forced a more ragged smile.

"…You…what?" She said, giggling, in disbelief. Dib slightly furrowed his eyebrows and slowly took a step backwards.

" I…forgot it." He said carefully, studying her reactions, with a slight fear rising. Ms. Pamela's eye twitched again and she closed them shut. Her smile turned into a deathly sneer. Her tightened fists slowly rose to her face and she bent over. All the while, Dib heard her muttering. _He forgot it…his homework…at his house…he forgot…his…homework….at his house._ Some of the works were shaky from her emotions. Her body trembled and quivered, almost appearing to make her spasm. Dib backed up a little quicker and he bumped into a desk. Then within a split second, Ms. Pamela stood up straight, her face blank and her hands down at her side. A smile came back and she giggled once more.

" That's okay dear. Don't forget _again_!" She said, giggling, but the last word containing emphasis that showed her disgust. It was expressed in her twitches. Dib's mind was in a stage of slight shock. He nodded and removed himself from the class with haste. Goosebumps traveled through his skin and his mind drew blanks for explanations on what just happened. Dib shook his head.

" I don't care. I don't **want** to know what happened." He proclaimed to himself. He began to run to the cafeteria. He just wanted to be _away_ from her.

· · ·

He entered the cafeteria and waited in line for lunch, however, not eagerly. The food was rather close to rot, and if anything, the food was only good for large amounts of waste to excrete. Dib received his plate tray and got splotches of mashed potatoes and a horrid colored slice of pizza. He grimaced and walked towards the table near the back of the cafeteria, where he sat alone with Gaz with the exception of the other introverts and nerds and whatnot at school. He sat at the seat beside his sister and looked down at the food, still a bit groggy. The food had no appealing traits to it, instead it was more of the opposite. Dib sighed and scratched the side of his neck.

" That's why I bring my own food." Gaz remarked. She took out a sandwich took a bite out of it. Dib didn't understand why it was so hard to grasp the concept of good food. The school employed people to cook for the children, and they always said "Health comes first!" But that statement was obviously used for appearances because the food they served could give an poor unsuspecting elder a heart attack. Dib spooned at the watery potatoes. The only reason why he got his food in the first place was to purposely relieve him of his appetite so that he wouldn't be hungry throughout the day.

As Dib was playing around the horrid substances, A tray in front of slammed against the table and startled the two. Zim placed himself in the chair in front of them, however his undivided attention at Dib. His perpetual scowl, along with the bags under his eyes could be considerably intimidating. Though it wasn't because it was Zim. He wasn't an intimidating character. However he noticed a large discernable swell in his shoulder. He was curious at first at what those were but shook the thoughts from mind; Dib smirked at him.

" Stress? Since when does a self-centered, prideful, hot-heated alien feel any other emotion than arrogance?" He remarked. Zim's eye twitched slightly and a sneer formed.

" Give me…my blueprints." He said solemnly. Dib chuckled.

" You're stressing over blueprints? I don't know how it is in your planet, but here in Earth, paper isn't something to die for—"

** " **The _blueprints_, Dib."

" You know, now that I think of it, if you die for these blueprints, it might make this world a better place."

" Dib…You will give me what's mine!" He exclaimed.

" Why should I?" Dib asked, crossing his arms.

" You stupid boy—You stole what belongs to me!" He slammed his fist at the table.

" Baby's first temper tantrum. I'm proud of you!" Dib remarked and laughed. He forgot about how tired he felt, and he enjoyed making Zim angry; it would provide with amusing results.

" Give me…_my blueprints Dib._" Zim said, his voice slightly shaky from the annoyance and anger.

" You know…you're like a broken record." Dib said, looking at his nails. " Blueprints…Blueprints…Blueprints—"

Zim's hands reached over the table and grabbed Dib by the collar. He tightened his grip and pulled him closer, causing strain on Dib's neck. They caught the attention of the entire table, and Gaz stood up from her seat. Zim was glaring at Dib.

" **The blueprints…now**." He demanded. Dib did have an amount of fear over what might happen next, but his want to make Zim angrier upended in the situation and he believed it was worth it; He smirked.

" _Did the blooo prints do something vewy vewy bad?_" He asked with a laugh. Without a second to realize, Dib's head whipped to the side and he was sent flying to the ground head first, tripping over the long seat that was connected to the cafeteria tables. A split second had passed and Dib knew that he was punched in the jaw, leaving him slightly disoriented. Zim jumped over the table in attempts to beat him more, but Gaz grabbed another kid's milk carton and launched it at Zim's face. The contents spill out and splashed all over him, and the immediate chemical reaction took place, beginning to burn his skin and Zim cried out. Dib managed to get to his knees and shake his head clear of his bleary vision, but he began to have a headache from the shock. A bit of blood was drawn from his lip and it dripped slowly. Zim was a few feet away, clutching his cranium from pain and yelling out in the process.

However the pain he experienced was like coal to fire; it fueled the anger he had to a blind rage and he got up and centered his fury at Dib, tackling him down as soon as he stood to his feet. The event caused an uproar in the cafeteria, and the other students began to gather around the wrestle. It was then that event had been the start of an all out food fight, kids began discharge their trays and food into the air, and many other individual fights began to happen on their own.

They were cheering and acting like animals, some kids were uncontrollably screaming over the excitement and violence. Gaz had just about enough of this; she grabbed her water bottle and held it in a tight grip.

She marched over to the tumbling two and whacked Zim across his face, and again, and one more time until the bottle broke from it's weak structure and spilled the contents all over them. Steam rose and he immediately screamed louder. She helped up her brother and Zim was on the ground writhing in pain. Gaz could hear some kids in the audience murmur. One kid yelled out, " _She drinks acid!_" She disregarded the stupid comment. She knew that out of all the liquids, water burned worst for Zim.

" Zim you're stupid blueprints are at _my_ house. You're not getting them back, not after what _you_ did." She said, clenching her fists. He was still on the tile floor, cradled up in a slight fetal position, but he had his arms covering his face from the mortification. In a small fit of anger, she kicked him in the knee, and he recoiled. She noticed a gauze wrap at his shoulder, and a smaller bandage at the back of his head. She disregarded the thought and then began to make her way through the audience, leaving the cafeteria. Dib followed behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: " Outraging Control "**

**Sorry about this slow update, and I know there's going to be more in the future, mainly because school started up and I have to do that, and it really just slows down my process exponentially. So, sorry again, and I hope you enjoy.**

" You let him in the house!?" Zim roared.

" He said he wanted to see you." Gir shrugged, almost apathetically. It caused Zim to become angrier. He clenched his hands into fists.

" Gir! He's my enemy you stupid—" Zim strained himself from saying anymore, and instead he took it out in his mindless outbursts. As they finally ascended Zim leaped over the lid of the toilet and landed on the same pose again, causing his knee and ankle to be strained once more. He groaned, ignored it, and stood straight. He saw the door closed and the table bare of…_that damnable boy_. The thought raced Zim's mind. He immediately dashed out the door and rammed it open. He ran out into the sidewalk and looked around the vicinity of the neighborhood, as far as his eyes would see. He analyzed quickly to see if Dib was anywhere. With his emotions ruling over his conscious, he expected to see Dib running away in attempt to escape, and when he didn't see any of his expected results, He fumed.

" You insolent idiot! He took my blueprints! Why do you never listen to me!?" Zim yelled, turning back to Gir. He flinched back and his hands came together over his chest. His antennae fell down behind his head.

" I-I thought he wanted to see you…I thought he was Mary." He said quietly. Zim marched back inside and his hands shook in his inharmonic anger. First the transmissions of the tallest almost a week ago…and now this? Zim held his head and tried to breath normally. He even began to walk in quick paces, walking back and forth. However sustaining his feelings only made them worse and he exclaimed out, and then turned his anger towards Gir.

" It's _always_ your fault, Gir! You and your abominable stupidity!" He pointed. Gir held his hands still and his head lowered.

" Mary looks like Dib—"

" You idiot." Zim remarked and continued pacing. He was tired of all of the mistakes, and all of the unconditional occurrences that Gir would make because of his fundamental mind. All of his actions resulting to his primitive nature and naïve behavior. Zim took a few deep breaths, trying to figure out a way to solve this problem; both retrieving his blueprints from Dib and solve Gir's foolishness. After a few moments of thinking, he unintentionally thought of an idea; which soon began to make sense.

" It's your A.I….Your atrocious A.I chip! It's defective!" He remarked. Zim took a moment to realize that was the cause of all of his problems with Gir. Why he was so hard to deal with and how he couldn't listen to any direct orders. Zim stopped in his tracks and glanced at him. Gir saw the look in his eyes and realized what he was planning. His eyes widened and he backed away. Zim furrowed his eyes and turned his body to face him.

" Gir, come here. Gir—Gir!" Zim yelled, as Gir began to scream in terror. As he came closer, Gir tried to run away to the side, panicking for his life. Zim tackled the small robot and struggled to hold his chin in a locked position, as he was screaming and squirming around.

" Let go! Let me go!" Gir cried. They wrestled and fumbled all over the floor and there were times where Gir was able to squeeze out of his grip and Zim would have to tackle him or trip him again. When he realized his disadvantage, Zim worked more quickly to try and consume less energy, knowing Gir could do this all day.

" Stay down, Gir! Zim grumbled. There happened to be instances where Gir had elbowed him or kneed him and was starting to fatigue him.

" I don't want to! I don't want to die!" Gir screamed.

" Shut up! You're not going to die!" He replied and Zim quickly placed his hand at the top of Gir's cranium and was able to open the top cover. However the sensation ran all sorts of thoughts through Gir's mind; thoughts of death, terror and desperation. In his attempt to save himself, He impetuously activated the jet packs stationed in his feet from fear and before they could comprehend what had happened, they were launching around in the room, and they both yelled, and from Gir's attempt to wiggle free, collided into a wall. Zim cried out and his unrelenting grip at Gir's neck was alleviated. There was a silent pause for a few seconds, and smoke was clouding the room. The impact was loud and powerful; it wouldn't be surprising if anyone else heard it. Thoughts came slowly to Gir, and he wasn't able to understand what he was feeling until he remembered what happened a few seconds ago. The shock he experienced reduced his thought process.

Gir panicked momentarily after ten seconds of trying to figure out what happened, and wiggled his way out of Zim's arms. The blue sphere that acted as a joint for Gir's shoulder was crushed and prevented any fluid movements. The shape of Gir's head was also dented. But Gir was too appalled to find any significance to notice them as important. Zim's eyes were partially closed. His breathing came out in short raspy intakes and exhales of fear and shock.

" I…Gir…" Zim said, trying to speak. But the came out in quiet whimpers and painful gasps. Gir could see the disarrangement of Zim's own shoulder and there was a dark green liquid spilling from both that and the back of his head. The damage done was crucial; The drywall had cracked and was decimated completely. The revealing wood was also snapped. Pieces of the plaster was everywhere and the mix of the drywall powder and smoke only made it hard to breathe, for Zim.

The colors that flashed in a mere seconds and then the intense pain that came afterwards was confusing for Zim. When he was able to determine that he was looking at, Gir at a lower angle, he tried to talk, to make sure he was okay, seeing the metal fractures and indentations in his body; The trauma caused a large amount of fear and bewilderment, making him emotional. Afterwards, when he was able to focus again, the pain almost seemed to intensify when he was more aware of the injuries and the sensations made his eyes water profusely.

" Gir…help me." Zim strained, raising his hand at him. A sharp exhale left his gritted teeth when he tried to use the wrong limb; his shoulder shot pains of extremity and Zim wanted to yell from it all. Gir broke out into loud sobs and he fell onto the spot where he stood. It was likely he didn't understand anything. He wasn't able to understand why Zim was so uncontrollably furious at him. Why Zim tried to harm him. Why Zim was hurt…And from all of the events, he broke down and cried. Gir covered his eyes and rocked himself back and forth, trying to comfort his troubled mind.

And for the second time, Zim felt a feeling he couldn't recognize. One he couldn't name exactly. Seeing Gir cry and try to make sense of what happened, why the only person he cared for tried to kill him. Seeing at how little Gir could know, and how little thought that could process. He felt that same, agonizing heart pain again. Zim gritted his teeth, and his eyes watered again. _Don't you dare. You let this pain bring you down? You lived on this, and grew upon it every day for the training life of an Invader! Weak, undignified! Get up! Get up now!_

Zim held his breath and reached his arm out again, and he persevered to keep his cries of pain inside. He grabbed the floor and clenched at the carpet with all he could.

" Gir…" He managed to say. Gir immediately stood up again, as he saw that Zim was trying to stand. His face was covered in water, and he still had the shaken look. " I need your help." Zim wheezed. He cried out when he stretched his arm further, and the pain was beginning to stretch to his back. The drywall that had shattered and landed upon him began tumbling down to the floor when he lifted himself from the wreckage. Gir began to whimper, receiving thoughts that he was still in attempt to remove his mind.

" Gir…I…I won't—_Agh_!" Zim cried, from extending his should too much. As Zim inched a bit closer, Gir's mind struggled for stability; his mind countered that Zim was going to try and hurt him again if he helped, or that if he helped him, he wouldn't try to take his mind anymore and apologize. And everything would be better.

But Gir's fear was the majority of his emotions and mind, and when Zim extended his hand, He retreated again, screaming.

" Gir!" Zim called after. But nevertheless Gir ran in the kitchen and jumped on the toilet, and fell down into the tunnels, fleeing for his life. _Just leave him. He won't be any good for you anyway; He did that to you in the first place._

" Dammit Gir..." Zim cursed under his breath at Gir and began to help himself from the wreckage. He used the arachnid legs from the PAK device to help him move. However it didn't ease the pain from his shoulder and the perpetual headache. Many times he collapsed and wallowed in his extreme agony, from the lack of concentration from the sensations. Zim managed to position himself in front of the television screen.

" Computer….analyze injuries." Zim strained, before he was prostrated once again to the ground.

"….Analyzing…Analyzing…extreme bruising of the left shoulder and left lower plane of skull. Skin has been ruptured, bleeding is apparent, however no arteries have been damaged. Anterior dislocated shoulder and head trauma and bleeding, No fractural injuries to the head or other major damages to the cranium. These occurrences may lead to symptoms like headaches, aching, soreness and swelling—"

" Computer…provide with…**Augh**! Strong anesthetics…Gauze and cold patches." Zim said, breathing heavily. Zim closed his eyes and gritted his teeth from the aching. He breathed a few moments before forcing himself to utter more words "…Relocate shoulder."

"…Warning: There may be substantial consequences without proper equipment—"

" That's an _order_." Zim commanded, before rising back with his PAK device. He positioned himself upon the couch and sat up. He had to keep the pressure from his back shoulder; even touching the couch would send stings of torment. Large mechanical appendages extended from the house, like metallic snakes, and grabbed Zim on to his arm and shoulder, extending it straight and outwards. He yelled out and shut his eyes closed; wishing dearly for his arm to be amputated.

" Applying anesthesia." The computer droned. Another snaky appendage appeared in front of Zim and held a few syringes of different colored substances.

" Of which maximal dosage?"

" Strongest!" Zim exclaimed out of pain, without even looking upon the offers.

" Side effects may include; nausea, dizziness, drowsiness—"

" **NOW**!" Zim yelled. The appendage reached for his shoulder and struck the needle in. Zim yelled out again and it inserted the serum. After a few moments of writhing in his agony, He was already feeling the numbness and effects spread throughout his body, almost like a poison. Then the appendages stiffened and Zim closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Immediately, the appendage holding his elbow thrust forward.

· · ·

Red entered the pilot room of the Massive and made his way to the main seats. He sat himself down and glanced around the room. He tapped his fingers and sighed countless of times. Red would reposition himself on the seat and try to contemplate clearly about things, which his nerving mind wouldn't allow. He got up a few times and he paced back in forth, with his hands behind his back. He would walk to the stairs and look out the window of the Massive. He hated how annoyingly nervous he was. Though nervous wasn't exactly the word for it; He would have to tell Purple about what he had done. He knew he would have to do it sooner or later, considering his impetuous outburst towards Zim. Restless was more appropriate.

The door's sounded and he knew Purple entered the room. A wave of chillness passed by as he took a silent deep breath, straightened his posture and turned around from the giant window towards the higher elevated part of the Massive. Purple looked around and saw him.

" You needed me?" He asked as he made his way down the stairs. Red nodded his head and turned his body.

" Yes. There's something I've been needing to tell you." Red remarked, and cleared his throat. Purple raised an eye in a slight disinterest.

" I was doing something important, you know. Why couldn't you have told me back at my quarters?" Purple said, crossing his arms. Red thought otherwise; that slipshod of a room couldn't contain anything that could be worthy of anyone's time. Let alone his _snacks._

" I highly doubt managing your snacks in alphabetical and colored order doesn't classify as...important." Red raised his chin. Purple only smirked from being unimpressed.

" It's the small things in life, Red. That's something I've learned to appreciate." He said and exchanged momentary looks of vexation. Red cleared his throat and blinked.

" Zim knows." He said simply. Purple looked around and began to walk in a slow pace. He was assimilating the structural build-up of the Massive and turning his attention elsewhere from his lack of interest.

" Knows about what?" Purple said, with a sigh. He placed a finger against the wall as he walked by, slowly losing more interest. Purple was obstinate like that; If any subject or matter didn't pertain to what he was currently doing or wanted, he would express his disinterest by intentionally ignoring or taking his mind somewhere else. He would dawdle around and halfheartedly pay attention to anything. Red became annoyed slightly.

"...Our intentional plans for his death." He said, expecting his mood to exalt. Purple stopped in his tracks and for a few moments, didn't look at Red. It made him smirk slightly. Purple turned around with alarm; his eyes slightly widened. He had to think about what he said, and when he did, he thought over it and tried to process the information right. Dubious, Purple shook his head.

" That's not possible. There's no way that he could've ever have found out about it." He insisted. Red sat momentarily on the thought.

" I received his transmissions a few days ago...He talked about it." Red said. That wasn't entirely true...neither was it entirely a lie. Purple's hands raised to his head.

" How did he find out?" He asked. Before Red could answer, Purple began to pace around and speak out ways of how he possibly found the information. " Nobody knows about that but us!" He yelled. " We never spoke to anyone about it...Unless." He stopped and pensively raised his hand to his chin. "...Somebody overheard our conversations." The words came out, almost in a frightened way. Purple immediately began climbing up the stairs, talking about how _it could be anyone of the invaders, _or_ how they could've leaked their information with hearing devices, and how no one could be trusted. _

" How the hell...Nobody made contact with him in ages!" He exclaimed, placing his hand at his head. Purple was obviously distressed from the news, and his overactive imaginations was getting him nowhere; however Red took small delight in this and he found it amusing. He waited a while more before he disclosed any further news. It helped clear out some of his tenseness.

" What motive would any other invader have against us? What would give them reason to conspire o-o-or spy against us? We've rewarded them with almost everything! Greedy, ungrateful bastards!" He cursed, as he made it to the top. " What are we to do? Now that Zim knows about our past plans, he could send any other invader of...No, wait, Every invader I know hates Zim...They wouldn't care if they found out we exiled him, and they would probably approve of it." Red sighed another breath before he spoke out again.

" I told him." Red said loudly. Purple stopped moving. There was a deathly silence held between the two and it shared a sense of ire, the entirety emanating from Purple almost like a gas. Then, Red heard a humorless chuckle.

"...You told him." He remarked. Another scoff escaped his mouth and he turned around and began walking back down the stairs more slowly. He was enraged; but he expressed it in his sarcasm. "...Now why in the hell would you do that?" He asked lightly.

" It came out as an insult—"

" Ah! Now _that_ makes sense! You and you're notorious, **undignified** temper playing parts! You just couldn't help it." Purple pointed with a shake of his head. " You just had to have the feeling of hierarchy against a pawn."

" That's not what happened." Red countered.

" It doesn't matter how it happened, dammit!" Purple snapped. " You exposed confidential information to the **one** person who wasn't supposed to find out! **One**! I didn't think it would be that difficult of a task!"

Purple observed Red for a brief moment and scoffed once more. " Then again I speak to one who has the unholy habit of disregarding equanimity, of that of a _defective_." Purple spat.

" Speak for yourself. You're overreacting over _confidential_ news that has no purpose of it being that in the first place." Red said. Purple laughed.

" Oh this is glorious! _Who_ told me that it wasn't supposed to be shared to anyone? Hmm? And for _what_ reason did he tell me why no one could find out?" Purple asked sarcastically. Red was beginning to feel annoyed. He furrowed his eyes and leveled his breathing.

" I spoke of it that time in that manner because it was necessary. We couldn't exactly be blurting out the plans to send him away while he was still in our presence. And we couldn't let Zim go to an actual assigned planet, not after what he's done; he's a threat to our planet and if not careful, he could even be one to himself."

" Oh please, the Irken isn't as smart as you think; He followed orders of stick-noted coordinates, and still set course to them. It was by the damnedest chance he was able to find a planet there."

" Exactly. Now that he's no longer here, the information is no longer important. It doesn't matter who finds out." Red said. Purple walked closer to him and put his hands behind his back.

" Oh then. Let's say another invader finds out about our past plans. They figure out that we exiled him on purpose, in disguise that he was on a mission. What's their initial reaction?; Fear. Paranoia. They're going to believe that could be the next target." Purple explained, gesturing. " By some far chance, they might even spread rumors." Red shook his head in disagreement.

" Rumors? Is that what you're afraid of?"

" _Conspiring_, Red. _That's_ what I'm trying to avoid." Purple said firmly.

" Even if they did find out, They also know that Zim was a defective. The only chance of them being sent to die would be if they were one too. And besides, what you explained would only help our situation." Red raised his chin. Purple's eyes stared at his face for a few moments before he groaned. He pressed a hand against his head and folded his arm at his hip.

" Oh, here we go." He remarked.

" We need to step up the game, Purple. We need to lead by example, show them that we are serious leaders."

" Power and more power. Is that what goes through your mind? It's not enough that you already own a planet of militaristic individuals, and specialized weapons and technology. You want them to be your footstool. You want _complete_ control."

" Control and power is what makes a system such as ours effective. For the lesser to fear us, would make us even the more superior. Rewarding them with _snacks_ doesn't." Red remarked spitefully. Purple laughed hysterically; a reaction that was the very opposite of what Red was expecting.

" Then let's just give them the throne and our ranks!" Purple remarked. " Fear and Respect are two different things, Red. What's next? Are were going to limit their privacy and food storage? Are we going to force them to live in unsanitary conditions? We rule over them, Red, and we also give them what they need. We are not inhumane."

" Fear promotes respect. It also exalts they're want to be even effective and efficient. Food shortages and unhealthy conditions are only additives to that effect." Red said.

" Our military is already as effective as it **needs** to be. The invaders already have a considerable devotion and pride for their country and leaders. Fear would only corrupt this planet."

" Fear would make us **more**. We would rule with iron fists. We would be idolized and remembered." Red said, motioning with his hands. He aspired for those to be true; it would bring more than just pleasure in his eyes to be seen as a dominant leader. He could imagine erected statues in their honor.

" You contradict yourself, you know that Red? Here you become angry because Zim killed his own people, and yet you speak now about us revolutionizing our planet by putting them in fear. To make them suffer; murder them." Purple shook his head. Red wondered for a moment how he would've known about the argument that took place, but he resulted to thinking that his statement was an assumption.

" I never said I wanted my people to die, or suffer, for that matter. If they fear us, than we have their undivided respect and loyalty. There's nothing _inhumane_ about that." Red responded.

" Power hungry fools always fall first and the hardest. To strike fear in the heart of enemies is what makes a leader efficient. However, what benefits would a leader gain if he strikes fear in the heart of his own people?" Purple remarked, and placed his hands behind his back. He was beginning to walk around again.

" He would gain the reputation that he expects. If an enemy sees a powerful man, so will the people he's leading." Red said, watching him carefully. Purple shook his head with a small smirk.

" They will see a man they fear. And Hate. If matters go so far, than they will probably even rear up a league to try and over-throne him."

" Only if he acts so imbecilic, then that he will deserve. One who knows how to lead will avoid that. However, if that does occur, then we will respond accordingly. We are more than well prepared for any attack of the sort." Red said. He made mental notes that Purple was circling around him. He wasn't exactly sure why, but from what he could tell it was a way of trying to emphasize his meaning and opinion.

" You sound paranoid, Red. You sound like you're expecting this." Purple mused.

" It's not that I'm expecting, Purple. I'm preparing. One must take precautions and over-thoughts when making a step so gigantic."

" Is it really that worth it? To..._enslave_ your own nation?"

" Enslaving is _inhumane_. Refining with arduous protocols is..." Red paused, and glanced to the side. He decided for a moment what word to use and when one came to mind, he glanced back to Purple in the eyes. "...suitable."

Purple huffed and massaged his lower chin and stopped walking around. He looked down at the floor for a while and he sighed when he glanced back up at Red.

" Leader's are authoritative, prevalent and also fair, Red. Power will only go so far, far less than that of the lifespan of one Irken. If used well, then it will flourish. If bent to ways and heights unknown, then it will bring down the entirety of one. You do not understand what greed does to a person, Red." Purple remarked solemnly. Red was wanting to respond, but for a reason he bit back his tongue. It was until he realized that he was slightly perturbed by the way he said it, he felt an unnerving chill in the room. Red looked around, looking at the walls and structures of the Massive, and then back to Purple. He shook his head and a small, amused, smile formed on his face.

" Do not forget your position. We are not in control here."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: " Aftermath "**

Zim was becoming slightly dreary from the amount of shock and pain that his body had been experiencing. His neural functions had been slowing down, trying to keep his system in recognition of it's pain. He managed to lift himself from the cold tile floor to his knees, and he could sense that close in his presence were the kids that were staring at him. He could feel their eyes burning their imprints in his body and it rose an anger and an embarrassment. But he was hurting, and he didn't have the needed energy to try and yell at them for their cessation. He slowly picked himself off the floor and when able to stand erect, sieved his way through the crowd. _Is Zim okay? I wonder how he survived the acid. He's a wimp, I bet he's going to cry. He lost that fight big time! or...did Dib lose?_ He could hear all types of whispering and jargon that was being shared within the kids' ears. But he could care less about the rumors they were creating against him. He just needed to be home.

Zim exited through the front doors and made his way to the sidewalk, stumbling slightly. Right now, his body was making him suffer. His ankle and knee were sore beyond belief, his skin was still in shock from the water, the milk, not to mention being whacked in the face with the cursed plastic water bottle; all of it was bringing him agony. His pain was causing his mind to fog and he didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel. All he wanted was to go home. Home would be his sanctuary. It would be his comfort. For a reason, his mind was only able to center around that. He dragged his feet as he continued meandering, and soon his closed thoughts ran rapid about extreme indignation towards his offenders, and onlookers. It was an unscaled spite that seethed it's way through his body; even his pain ignited his anger. Thoughts going so far as predetermined murder entered his mind. Through his anger he lingered upon them to feed upon the unsatisfying ideas that only chipped away at his temper.

_What a pathetic rage. You brought that upon yourself. How could you let yourself victim to those useless emotions? Why didn't you plan something? Instead of blundering like an idiot, going head first, demanding for your blueprints. There are no words to describe the imbecility; the betise off those actions, the irrationality of your conjuration of ideas, and your overall hotheadedness. You shame yourself...and so effortlessly._

Zim shook his head, mostly from regret. Why _didn't_ he think of something? He was taught tactics and plans of action so that he could overcome any sort of situation that proved problematic. Yet he always discounted those practices and resolved using his childish fury. It was always embarrassing! And yet he never learned from those mistakes. Zim would've linger on that subject if his head wouldn't kill him in the process.

He entered through his doors and felt a reassurance crawl through his body. It wasn't even a good feeling the way it shivered up his spine. He turned around slowly and closed the door behind him, finally feeling slightly safe behind the vague ocean of eyes. Belonging to the curious people who would inevitably generate conspiracies and questions.

" They're all watching...I know it!" Zim muttered. " I exposed myself too much back there...I can't afford to do that again." Zim contemplated about how much of a fool he'd been. They all saw his body's reaction to the milk, and yet he so imprudently continued that skirmish until they saw the other reaction with water. It unearthed many hidden secrets and identities which should've been kept buried, but Zim wasn't in the right of his mind at the time. _You're not in the right mind now._

" Oh my blueprints..." Zim whined. He made his way to the sofa and slowly lied on the cushions, feeling a soothing aid to his sore muscles, but gritted his teeth to the striking pain at his bruises. He rested his head against the armrest and let out a sigh. He wished that his idea of reclining on the couch was more favorable towards his wanting ease of pain.

" Sir. You appear to bear more bruises and injuries than before. Have you sustained more from within the time span of 8 hours, 30 minutes, and 31 seconds?" The computer asked. Zim closed his eyes and rested his hand against his forehead. He sighed slowly, and he could feel the swollen presence of his bruises placed upon his head.

"...Yes...I have." Zim answered deeply. "...Computer...What happened to your voice apparatus? Why does it sound so..._soporific_? " He asked quietly. For the past few days he noticed how monotonous and prosaic the voice of the computer sounded, as if it's only purpose was to serve primitive duties, without even the benefit to complete them out of boredom. However he didn't question it until now.

" I...er...I thought it was a little...fun to try and experiment with my voice apparatus...to sound like a default mechanism... I also-uh...did research for more..._eloquent_ vocabulary, if you will." The computer replied, with a normal voice, the one he was built with. " I...Well—I thought it made me sound more...you know, scientific like and...like an expert." He chirped.

Zim breathed in and out for a few more moments, contemplating about what he said before he shook his head.

" It doesn't...it makes you sound annoying. Don't do it anymore." Zim said hardheartedly. The computer's engined stirred a bit before there was a silence. Zim knew that small _rirring_ was an emotion process throughout his computer's system. His computer was built to be sentient, for reasons unknown, however Zim thought that it made the machine more intelligent; He was even able to process thoughts. Zim also regarded his computer as male, mainly because his voice was programmed to fit one and the computer even preferred the gender role itself. Another small mechanism sounded before his computer spoke again.

"...Yes sir..." He remarked, morosely. After a short pause, Zim felt a twinge again in his chest, and the feeling brought his eyes open. It was that same..._emotion?_ That he'd felt before. Thrice already it occurred and he still didn't know what it was. But the feeling was over before he could linger on and try and discover why he felt the way he did for those span of seconds. It annoyed him slightly and he rested his head back down against the armrest.

"...Sir, your shoulder seems to serve you well...I guess it really is beneficial to be an Irken." Computer remarked. Zim furrowed his eyes and glared at the television screen.

" What is _that_ supposed to mean?" He asked, offended.

"...N-Nothing, sir. I didn't mean it like that." He responded. " It's just your DNA and structural build make it easier for you to recover from injuries. I-I've noticed that your shoulder isn't hurting you...as bad anymore."

" _Tch!_ Damn my shoulder." Zim muttered. From the aforementioned incident of the injury of his shoulder, thoughts of Gir came back to mind and it made him grimace slightly. It was logical that Gir was still hiding. His small mind wouldn't be able to repair itself that quickly, especially from the emotions and after affect.

_Gir is completely useless to you. Not only is he inutile from his rambunctious behavior and childish psyche, but he has a mental capacity so limited that a comparison wouldn't be in due because his condition is so unprecedented. He's only a burden. But if you actually cared about your mission, you would've gotten rid of him the day you retrieved him._

Zim lingered upon the thoughts for a while, reflecting if those instances would be of any use and benefit. Though he waved the thought, but not entirely out of conclusion. Zim groaned as he remembered the pain and he took a deep breath.

"...There were other ways that we could've used to relocate your shoulder..." Computer remarked. Zim only nodded with disinterest and ignored the statement. However, the computer continued on.

"...I did some research upon it...There were other...more therapeutic ways. Using force to relocate your joints isn't exactly conventional...however, from the looks, it does prove to be..._efficient_ enough...and prompt." He said, with a slight chuckle. Zim disregarded the one-sided conversation and continued on with writhing. Though the Computer took quick notice to Zim's uncaring behavior and discontinued the subject. or a while, he remained quiet and left Zim to wheeze, and to let his body heal.

" Sir...If I may..." Computer said. Zim took a few moments to think about what he was wanting to do, but he responded anyway.

" What?" He sighed.

" I...I suggest that you should allow yourself into a dormant state." He said, uneasily. Zim opened his eyes and glanced back at the television screen.

" You suggest I fall asleep..."

" Yes...I know that from your race you don't _need_ to, but however I do know that it is possible for it to still occur...I...I uh." Computer paused for a moment and allowed a few engines to run before talking again. " I've been doing research on this planet for a while now...Since we've been here for around a year...I was able to link into data sights and gather information. Of course I...I speak of internet sights and web-pages and whatnot...but...I found out that sleep can help the healing process." He remarked. Zim sighed and shifted around, and lied upon his right shoulder.

" I don't need sleep. I'm fine." He replied.

"...I recommend that you do...I sense and...I-uh...analyzed that you are in quite some pain...And just from the view..._ooof_...It would help your situation...Plus, your shoulder and your head wouldn't be in much pain anymore." The Computer said. Zim allowed the thoughts to mind and he contemplated about what the computer was suggesting. It was true; he had been in quite a lot of pain. He remembered how much it hurt just to walk home, from his limbs. Zim sighed again and began to allow the process take place. Unlike for humans, and because Irkens didn't need sleep, he could consciously compel his body to do so. Zim leveled his breathing, and closed his eyes. It was then that he felt his mind begin to slowly slip away from him, as any conscious thought faded away into surreal realities and imaginations. He was also able to control how deep of a sleep he would fall to.

Slowly, after a minute passed, Zim had fallen asleep, and the Computer had turned a few engines, and searched through his self implanted Media player. He browsed through the queue of his selected favorite music and searched through the 'Peaceful' categories. The Computer chose an arrangement from Gabriel Fauré; Pavane Op. 78. After wards he listened to it in peace, and he knew that while Zim was in his dormant state, He would be undisturbed by the music. To ensure that, the Computer turned down the volume closely to the quietest it could be.

Even though as a simple mechanism made for the service of others, and simply to be an inanimate object, the Computer liked how he was still able to enjoy the small things of the world, and he was grateful for his intelligence and sentience. Even though his line of work could be demeaning to his existence and moral standards, the up sides were listening to music and indulging into novels, works of fantasies and sci-fies. He even had found a few of his own favorite authors and musicians.

After a few moments had passed, however, Gir had exited from the toilet from the kitchen. He gingerly mounted off the seat and almost tip-toed towards the living room. The sight of Zim made him stop and he stared at him for a few moments before he decided to sit in place. From what the computer could tell, he was trying to figure out what had happened. _Why did he decide to sleep? Why are there bruises on him? _The Computer thought that Gir was thinking those thoughts, as he saw how curiosity lightened his eyes. After a while, Gir turned his head to the television screen, and finally realized the music that was playing.

For a while he contemplated what he was hearing, until he stood up to move closer to the screen. As it continued playing, Gir sat down again at his spot and stayed still as a statue. He was listening to it! Even though he probably had no idea what it was, he was actually enjoying it, in a sense. Gir blinked a few times, and he shifted around to where he was criss-crossing. To his surprise, Gir had stayed until the music ended, where he blinked a few more times and stood. There when Zim shifted in his sleep, he mistook it for him waking up, and ran back down the underground base.

**•****•****•**

After school ended, Dib managed to decrease the swelling and bruising that appeared on his face. Thanks to the nurse, he was able to borrow a cold patch and make them look at least more sightly. The bleeding from his nose and mouth however sporadically came and went. So in such cases, he kept a handkerchief in his pocket. Throughout the school day, he'd been slightly angry at Zim, for the obvious reasons, and for the fact that always seemed to reinforce itself as if it needed to be a constant reminder that the school kids were just so stupid to know that Zim was an alien. _He was steaming! From water! And yet they claimed it was acid. Unbelievable._ Dib fumed. Gaz and Dib walked home together, following the usual path they took as always. However they didn't exchange any words, and the presence between the two was silent, as silent as it could be from the wind that blew rather strongly. Dib shoved his hands into his pockets to shield them from the cold, and Gaz did the same. _At least now I know that there are benefits for having jackets_. He mused. He thought a little more about the event that took place until he had realized something.

" Oh yeah...uh, Gaz." Dib began.

" Mm." She hummed in response.

" Thanks for...uh, helping me out...if you wouldn't have been there, I might've gotten more bruises and probably been beat unconscious." He chuckled. However, Gaz only hummed another _mmhmm_ and it made his attempt at humor even more awkward. He coughed nervously and remained silent the rest of the way home.

As they entered in the house, Dib took off his socks and shoes and placed them within the closet. He sighed and walked down the hallway to his room. He opened the door and entered through the slight mess that was abound. He had the small urge to clean his room, and pick up the things that were randomly spotting the room, However he was focused on finishing the studies he had on the blueprints. Dib sat upon his chair and turned on the computer, re-opening tabs and documents that he had used last night. He began into his same process which he conducted last night. A little while into his research, Gaz entered his room with a soda can. She watched a while before she began drinking.

" How many languages did you find?" she asked, lifting the can to her mouth. Dib stopped and blinked. After trying to think of a rational conclusion, his mind drew blanks and couldn't come up with any. He needed to process the information he'd just received; Gaz. _The _Gaz was actually curious about what he was doing. He turned slightly towards her.

"...uh...last night I did around 340 languages." He said casually. At the answer, Gaz almost choked on her drink. She coughed out liquid particles and secured the can in her other hand. She cleared her throat before speaking.

" Why?" she coughed.

"...Well I needed to have at least a tenth of the research down. I mean...I have a lot of other languages to go." Dib replied with a shrug. Gaz paused for a moment before shaking her head.

" That's just doing too much...Wait...How many languages are in the world?" She asked another question, coughing still. Dib widened his eyes at the inquiries that were leaving her mouth. It was starting to become baffling. Dib blinked again and scratched his palm.

" Uh...around...6,912 I think." He remarked. That was when she paused and looked at him for a few moments, estimating in her head how much time and research and patience exactly it would take to research that many different languages. She shook her head at the amount of work that would be required for that amount of research. She knew herself well; she wouldn't have the motivation to do 20. Gaz coughed one more time and set down her drink on his desk. Dib continued working and he noticed slightly how she stayed to watch. After a while, Gaz shifted on her feet.

" Hows your face? I saw you took a couple of blows." She brought up. Dib grinned crookedly.

" I feel fine. I have small bruises but they don't...Well, they hurt, but they don't hurt too...Well, they hurt _a lot_, but...you know...not enough for me to be in absolute pain." He remarked, and continued on with his studies. Afterward, there were no other words shared.

There would be the occasional dubious grunt and huff as he did his calculations, and more specifically, to the notes he took, but however there was no denying she was interested. He could tell that she was contemplating. He saw that she was watching his research, but she was still doubtful about the whole idea. But she was giving it consideration. Perhaps reluctance consideration, but nevertheless she gave it her attention. Something that Gaz never does if it doesn't have any sort of significant pertinence to what she was doing.

How did he know that? Of course, of her actions of watching him study. After seeing Zim's reaction to the fact he had stolen his blueprints, and how so far what she'd seen had nothing to do with the world they live in, it would...kinda make sense for her to be slightly convinced. Though after the 50th language Dib had studied today, she left with boredom, unmotivated to sit through all of that time just to watch someone study. Dib was surprised she stayed so long in the first place.

It was then that their father sauntered into the living room, greeting Gaz with proclaims and bursts of gusto. However he took notice to Dib's absence in the room, and made his way to his bedroom. He detected instantly to the small bruises that were on Dib's head. Dib waved the idea and reassured him that he had just fallen down from the tables during lunch. That wasn't entirely a lie, though. His father however shook his head and demanded for the truth. When Dib tried again to restate that was the truth, his father became impatient. In all honesty, Dib never saw his father so adamant to find out about the doings of his kids. Especially if it had to do with injuries.

"...I got in to a fight." Dib sighed.

" What?" His father almost boomed.

"...I uh...got into a fight."

" With who?" He demanded.

" I-uh...with Zim." Dib remarked. A disappointed sigh left his father's mouth.

" Why can't you two ever get along? All I hear are gossips and insults from you two!" He chastised. Dib remained silent for a while and he rubbed his hands together. He tried his best not to look his father in his eyes but eventually he willed himself to do so. The intensity of his father's concern made Dib feel uneasy. That was when he had grabbed him by the shoulder and lead him to the other room. He set him down at the chair in the kitchen and he sat in front of him.

" Tell me how it began. Did you win?" He said, more austere. Dib scratched the back of his neck. He didn't exactly understand why he brought him in the kitchen, but he never questioned his father's motives. It just wasn't part of his nature to do so.

" Ah, Dad...It's...It's really not—"

" **Son**..." He said sternly.

Dib was slightly surprised by his father. And his last remark sent a cold chill down his spine. His father was never really the one to be intimidating; however his height and voice could be a factor into that category already. And when so serious, it could really make an impact. Dib shifted in his seat and blinked a few times.

"...uh...okay—I-I got into this fight because I...uh...I stole—um...blueprints from—"

" You did _what_? You _stole_? From _who__—_Zim?" His father said, shocked.

" I—yeah... from Zim." Dib replied, becoming nervous.

" Why did you do that, Dib? I taught you better!" His father exclaimed.

" I-I know! I'm sorry...but Zim has..." He paused, desperately trying to find words to form an explanation.

" Zim has _what_?" His father questioned. Dib's tongue felt immobile and unable to form any words that he wanted to express. He sighed eventually and finally came up with the idea to try and show him rather than explain.

" Hold on, Dad." He said and pushed his seat from the table, and jumped down.

" Hey Where do you think you're _going_?" His father said firmly.

" Hold on, I'm going to show you the blueprints." Dib reassured. After a few moments, His father loosened and stood up from the table and flicked off imaginary lint from his clothes.

" I don't approve of this at all, Dib. You know that you're not supposed to steal, I don't care from whom. You're _not_ supposed to." His father said, in process of following him to his room. Dib entered and for a split moment felt a sense of self-consciousness when he opened the door to the disarray of his room. However he forced the thoughts and feeling from mind and continued to his computer. There he picked up the sheets and handed them to his father. He took them gingerly and studied the etchings and captions.

" You see? It's in another language. One I've never seen before. I think that this might be proof for Zim being from another planet." Dib said carefully. He knew what his father's feelings were on the subjects of paranormal investigation and supernatural experiences. Those ideologies were of nonsense and complete idiocy in his eyes. However his father was looking at the pictures quite pensively. Dib almost received the thought that his father might've believed him if it wasn't for the slow, daunting glance from the papers to his son's face that told him otherwise.

"...You stole them because they were in another _language_?" He asked, gravely. Dib knew where this was going; His father thought he was racist. And for him to think so only gave him cold shivers and made him appear more intimidating. It was quite difficult to prove things of otherworldly nature to the one's who believed in only scientific proof and evidence. Dib sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

" I know what you're thinking, Dad, but that's not the case. I took those and I studied to see if the had—

"_ Dib_... Somebody from another country, and who speaks a different language **doesn't make them an alien**!" His father almost yelled. He was infuriated; and even though his glasses were still on and his heightened lab coat collar, He could slightly see the blood rush to his face.

" Dad! I'm not saying that people from other countries are aliens! I'm saying that Zim is!" Dib replied defensively. " Look! I did research!" He said and rushed to his computer. He turned it on and went to his studies and documents.

" I've studied lots and lots and lots of different languages! I...I'm not done yet but I can assure you that this language—" Dib gestured to the blue prints, and tapped at the symbols. "—has no correlation with any other of the spoken languages on earth!" He confided. However, His father could almost be considered glowering right now. His hand that didn't hold the blueprints was in a tight fist and he still as a statue. Dib swallowed nervously and his hands sought each other.

"...Dib...you will take this back to Zim...and apologize." He said. Dib felt almost a panic rise in his body.

" But Dad..."

"...**Dib**...do the right thing." He said finally. His father gingerly grabbed his son's hand and put the blueprints upon his palm. He left the room without another word. Even with his presence gone, Dib could still feel the austere disposition and cold mood that had emanated from his father. One that he never knew existed.

• • •

Purple strode through the hallways of the empire. He wandered slowly, pensive, hands folded behind his back. There were a few times where he passed by an Irken Invader, and was greeted with a formal bow, and an addressing of _My Tallest_. Purple would form a smile on his face but would reply nonchalantly, despite the expression, with _As you were_. However the process didn't make them stop when they greeted. It was a quick acknowledgment, a quick response to that acknowledgment, and things came back the way they were. There were other times where he encountered janitors, servants, and other service drones that had the identical salutation. Purple would only nod to them.

He entered into his quarters and relieved a sigh from his mouth. His room had been neatened while his departure was present. The bed was straightened and the sheets repositioned. The floor swept and clean, glimmering from the blue incandescent light that shone from his ceiling. As an Irken, the bed was only present for luxury purposes. It posed no real importance to him and he only used it when he contemplated, or when he required a more comfortable seat. However, it was nice to sleep and restore a bit of energy every once and a while.

Purple removed the bold, oval gauntlets that weighed his wrists, and slid his slender fingers out. Along with the other, steel plated armor that he appareled in for the appearances, he removed from his chest and torso. He placed them accordingly into his closet and massaged his muscles. It was never comfortable to wear such unnecessary defense. The only clothe that were of small comfort was the robe he wore underneath. At least that wasn't decked with solid steel. Purple stretched, and sat upon his bed.

As he was to continue before he was interrupted, he resumed ordering his snacks in alphabetical and color order. He appreciated the look of a rather dashing disposition of a nice kept shelf of treats. This way it helped him to know that others didn't think him a disorganized fool.

However, his thoughts kept rearing back to the event that took place today. With Red. It didn't help that he was so blind enough by his own temper to make decisions that were irrational, but it really showed the true character when he made irrational decisions of information that was supposed to be classified. The thought would've brought back a sense of vexation, if he didn't have the sudden idea race his mind about the Control Brains.

They have ears within the palace, within each and every corner, room, and crevice. The only privacy that the Almighty Tallest is allowed is that of their quarters, and even then, servants and drones allow themselves into them without a second thought within everyday. The Control Brains monitor what happens around the palace, for they are the ones that truly rule. On behalf of their inability to move, they result to being manufactured with their hearings extended throughout the entirety of the place. When Purple remembered that, he couldn't help but receive the small fears of paranoia and slight spine tingles.

_I need to warn this to Red...They might've overheard us_. Purple thought to himself. There was no doubt in his mind that Red didn't notice this himself. He might've been a blundering fool when it came to keeping secrets and keeping calm, but he was just as analytical and quick to details as he was. Purple sighed at the thought, knowing he would have to replace some of the metallic apparel to appear more appropriate.

Purple leisurely made his way down the hallways of the palace. The palace hallways were rather dim, actually everything about the palace was shadowed with darkness. Mainly from the lack of windows. However, he took notice to the welly-obscured wires that lined the corners of the hallway. It wasn't that the Control Brains were paranoid, and suspicious. But in fact they just liked to be acquainted within the events that occurred within the Palace. Curiosity, to put it lightly. However, it still didn't fail to unsettle him whenever he sensed their presence.

Purple arrived at Red's door and knocked upon the cold steel surface. A thought ran in his mind, and he actually approved to the feeling. It wouldn't hurt if they placed carpet within many parts of the palace. Like the Observatory, or the Gallery. _That would be nice_. Purple mused. The door opened and Red glanced from the slim opening. The small amount of curiosity that lightened Red's face fell to a dark, bitter appearance of displeasure.

" What do you need?" Red asked unpleasantly. Purple furrowed his eyes and lowered his head.

" Don't sound so sore, Red. I came to give you some advice." He said, equally matching his irritation. Red scoffed at his remark and opened the door wider, as he felt no longer the need to conceal himself. He was dressed in his red robe, his armor having been replaced.

" Last I recall, your _advice_ usually has an under-meaning of _lecture_." He said. Purple casually allowed himself in and ignored the aura that emanated from Red when he did so. Actually, he acknowledged his increase of vexation with a small, mocking smirk.

" Lectures belong to those in need of them. You simply cannot learn for yourself." Purple joked. However, Red in his usual bad mood, disregarded the lightness of his voice and only regarded the sting it provided.

" If immature taunting is the only thing you came here for, then I welcome you to the door." Red said deeply.

" No...I came here for more important issues...It's just fun to counter your own anger." Purple said, amused. Red placed his hands behind his back and raised his chin. His impatience and extreme disinterest was vivid. He even released a sigh in slight preparation in the upcoming conversation. In turn, Purple lowered his chin, appearing more serious. Red closed the door and locked it shut. He glanced back at Purple and stayed in one spot.

" I need to understand that your little...proposal of leadership and control wasn't in fact true." Purple began. Red's eyes furrowed intensely.

" You returning to this conversation brings me umbrage, Purple. I don't want to talk about this." He said. Purple shook his head, and let out an easy, light sense of chuckling. Maybe he wasn't as quick to details as he thought he was...

" As it may bring you...displeasure...I assure you that it will be beneficial if you allow me to finish."

" Your _assurance_ brings nothing but more _displeasure_." Red said, impatient. He even demonstrated it with crossing his arms over his chest. Purple furrowed his eyebrows. He would at least expect Red to listen just to a little bit to what he was saying. His absolute refusal wasn't exactly eccentric, but it had always been a subject that Purple had some knowledge about. Not to mention it was immature.

" What's the matter with you?" Purple asked.

" Is _this_ what you came here for? To concern about my _welfare_?" He retorted. Now he was taking offense to things that didn't even have a direct or indirect insult. Not even with sarcasm. Purple shook his head.

" Does it matter—"

" Yes...it does." He confided.

" Red, I came here not to anger you. I came here to—"

" Purple...I will not repeat myself." Red said, his arms falling to his sides. Red was unusually upset, even for him to be so. He wasn't so quick to anger as Purple could recall, not so much as he is now.

" Red...what is it that has made you so...infuriated? If it was the argument, that took place hours before." Purple asked, genuinely confused.

" You venture too deep, Purple. That is none of your business." Red spat. " Now...If you only came here to speak about our argument from before, then you shall leave. I am in no need or mood to quarrel."

Purple shook his head slowly. He was already glaring at him. It had only been half a minute to anger him to the point that Red was obstructing his ears and commanding for Purple to leave his presence. However, there might've been more to what met Purple's eyes. Maybe there was an_ actual_ reason that he didn't know about that personally angered Red and not some excuse like the pastimes he had used. However, it still shouldn't blind him to recognize the underlying words that Purple was using for him._ The fool...He's just as imprudent as ever. _ Purple thought to himself. He raised his chin and sighed.

Red opened the door once more and motioned for his departure. Purple lingered a while longer, watching his eyes before he decided to move. He swiftly placed a note on Red's dresser as he slowly moved past him, and exited the room without another word. When he entered the hallway and when the door shut, Purple let out a smile and continued his way down. It seemed that planning ahead was always beneficial.

Red sighed as he locked the door, and placed his hand flat against the face of it. Purple was his colleague, a best friend, a rival and his co-leader in the service of the Irken Empire, however despite his connection with him, Purple was the most detestable person who ever existed. His presence could bring more utter disgust to an individual than the presence of a damned defective, if he really tried. And he does. Every time.

Red straightened out, and folded his arms behind his back. He believed that appropriate mental and physical posture helped invigorate the flow of reaching a calm, stable state of mind, to relieve stress. He blinked slowly and paced around the room for a bit, letting his thoughts diverge away from Purple; The spark of all flames. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. If he didn't believe in these practices of controlled conduct and behavior, It would leave him to be a very stressful, and unhealthy person. Red needed it to rely on, knowing that his biggest disadvantage was his habit to walk the shortest avenue to anger. Which in turn, the one to reason and logic in endangered patience was miles, almost.

_You're patience only becomes "endangered" when you speak with Purple, and that's because you refuse to try and _keep_ your patience. You hold a grudge which prohibits any wants to compromising and logical thinking._ Red's narcissism spoke. It was the quiet voice located in the back of his head, always and only there to counter any sort of thoughts he had. It would always tell him the blatant truth of his actions, and sometimes even be the flint to the spark. That would only be on behalf of Red's inability to accept the truth, and he knew that voice spoke only of the truth. However, stubbornness is a very stubborn wall to get over. Hence it's name.

Red sighed and dropped his arms to his side, and finally opened his eyes. His thoughts were going no where to help him with his outreach to peace. They only ventured to other places that brought vexation as well. Red sat down at his bed, and rubbed his bald cranium. It seemed like everything brought a feeling of stress, disregarding the degree of which it emanated. And he hated that the most. He sighed once more and glanced around his room. Red then saw a small folded paper curiously placed upon his dresser. He had the feeling he knew who it was from. And it wasn't a good one.

Red walked over and unraveled the paper, reluctantly. And as he stretched out the jointed paper, He began to read it. As his eyes traveled over the words, Red huffed at the light insults and shook his head at just how much of Purple was portrayed within the paper. Further in, he began to feel slightly disappointed at himself, and over thought the insults he'd directed to Purple. Not to much, on virtue of Purple's endemic sarcasm which never failed to annoy him.

_Dear Idiot:_

_How did I know you were going to shove the door in my face? Well I'm talking about you, in the first place. Better thank me next time you see me, because I know you didn't think of this;_

_I only brought up the idea of yours again because even with the door closed, I know The Control Brains can still hear. I made it seem like to them it was just me ensuring you weren't being stupid. So they wouldn't suspicious if we talked about them or anything else._

_As I aforementioned, the Control Brains have ears of the gods; I know they overheard our conversation in the Massive, and especially since we had a heated argument. Plus you had the thought yourself when you looked around at the ceiling. Next time you have another grand idea to Complete control and Subjugation to all, Talk to me with correspondence; you idiot._

_Third of all, We need to bring up our little argument to the Control brains. They are going to think we are keeping secrets. From what they know, we don't know they eavesdropped, and that we are not sharing this subject to anyone. So we need to start having a chat about this, using our computers for chat rooms. Those databases are the only things the Control Brains aren't wired to, and are not monitoring 24/7. We need to think about what we're going to do, and fast, or else we might be summoned, charged with suspicions of conspiring and other prohibited acts_._ So tonight, yes, _**tonight**_, You need to start corresponding. We have to get this done and over with. _

_I will be expecting that thanks in your first message, in your first line. _

_Forever __**not**__ yours, Purple_

Red contemplated about the message for a while, before he sat down at his desk. He wove his fingers together and placed his elbows against the desk platform. As annoying and stupid as Purple was, and as much as he hated to admit, Purple was right. Not about everything, but about most of it. Red had the thought that the Control Brains were listening. It was when he remembered their presence he felt the extreme mortification and anger at himself, in the Massive. Which was why he had misfired it towards Purple just a few moments before. It was always when he was proven wrong that it would annoy him; That was another reason towards the misfiring.

Though for a reason, now he contemplated it with consideration. Purple could be appreciable when he wasn't being so childish. He could also be considered an...okay person, if not for his incessant need to take advantage of Red's patience...And his selfish habit to put himself first in front of everything and everybody else. Red sighed and massaged his head a while more.

" Computer; On..." Red commanded. The machine activated and brought up his desktop.

" Roxi?" Red remarked.

" Yes, Almighty Tallest Red?" She replied.

" Check my Daily Log list. Are all of my errands done for the day?" He asked, scratching his chin.

" Yes, sir. They are."

" Good...Computer; bring out the keyboard. Roxi, you may enter sleep mode."

Red said and set his fingers in position upon his keyboard. He paused for a few seconds to decide on how to begin this message back to him. And after a while, he felt that for once, he would humor Purple.

" Yes sir...Thank you sir." Roxi replied. Sleep mode was when the computer's personal engine would shut down, without completely turning off the system. The voice command activator would be set to off automatically as well. The machine and it's general functions would be set on, but as he called her, Roxi, would be independent from any further commands and functions from the system. Red opened up the chat room site and opened the email, writing the message like he was supposed to. He began it with the expected thanks, in the expected first line. However, he would not fail to include his _own_ sarcasm this time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: " One Step Ahead "**

Today was the beginning to the weekend from school. Dib fell asleep at the unusual time of 9:30, and woke up at 4:24 am. He did this so that he could manage to fit in the time to study more from the blueprints before he would have to give them back. It felt wrong to do so, but in sequence, his father didn't revoke him from doing any further research, his only statement was that he needed to give the blueprints back. However, Dib did know that his father wouldn't have wanted him to do this. And Dib did know better. The only reason he had that compelled him to do so was that he was doing this for the good of humanity. Though it didn't fail to dishearten him in the process.

Dib didn't waste his time with changing out of his pajamas; there would be no use to doing so. He immediately turned on his computer and rushed to his door to lock it. He silently opened his drawers and brought out the blueprints and placed them flat against the table, but after being jointed repeatedly and for long periods of times, they curved and were unbending to any attempts for him to lay them flat...literally.

He began doing his research, but he knew he would have to speed up the process, if he wanted to get at least half of the languages of the world in this. However his computer processed the information and scanned the symbols and characters at it's fastest it could possibly go. The downside was that it could only do it in comparison with one language at a time. For each comparison, it would take up to a minute to a minute and a half with one language, then move to the next one that Dib provided it. It was efficient enough, so that he wouldn't have to do anything else but wait. Nevertheless, it still felt like he was wasting time by sitting their and doing nothing.

But as time pressured on, and as he was passing his next 100th language that he had been studying, a thought occurred to Dib. One that made him stop all of what he was doing. One that made his gut turn to stone. He slowly looked down upon the blueprints, and analyzed each picture and character.

These symbols were from another language. One that had no supposed correlation to any of the languages on earth. However...This wasn't the entirety of Zim's spoken language. They were just his blueprints; a mere fraction of all of the other alphabetical symbols, all the root terms and words and definitions. As well as the combining like words and pronouns, nouns, and verbs and the other terms that was a part of grammar.

Regardless of his research, he was only comparing this fraction of words and symbols to the entirety of the other languages. The only way that Dib's way of research could be conducted correctly, was if he had Zim's entire language on these blueprints, and what was the chance of that happening? That Zim would concentrate and be so scrupulous as if to want every character of his alphabet on these papers...No, he would only need crucial information about the measurements, his notes and many structural, mathematical and other forms of engineering reports upon his studies. Judging from his pictures he drew; frequency waves and signals, and electric engineering. There are many concise ways with choice words to describe the small outlines and measurements of Zim's plans. Many that even Dib could think of them, to form into sentences—no—_paragraphs_ that didn't at all contain all of the letters or words of the English language.

This brought a heavy dejection upon Dib and it even brought embarrassment. That He would do so much concentration and studying on a subject that was idle and pointless from the start. It was like his research was bound to be in vain before he even began. It even began to anger him. All of this just for nothing. Dib clenched the blueprints, uncaring about the untidy folds and crumpling of the paper. He threw them against the wall and let out an aggravated sigh.

There was so much that could've been avoided if Dib hadn't stolen these. The concerned and worried father over his son's views of morality and standards of races, the useless skirmish between him and Zim, which could've saved them both from the bruises and sore muscles. But yet Dib didn't even so much as have second thoughts when he stole the blueprints. And he regretted it entirely. It was almost like Zim was unintentionally one step ahead all the time, on virtue of everyone elses' stupidity and disbelief.

_What now? Do I just discount this research and throw it all away?_ He thought. Though he knew it all couldn't be too hopeless; There could be a slight possibility that these blueprints, which there was more than one sheet, could contain his alphabet. Sure, it wouldn't have all of the arrangement of words in them, or all of his ways of grammar, but at least he could compare it with something else. Even with it just being an alphabet. The thought brought a light sense of hope and it relieved the heaviness that was upon his shoulders, but he knew as well he shouldn't be to expectant. He knew that he shouldn't do any more research, concerning if he were to finish it all that it would be worthless if his concerns were right. But then if he threw it all away and it turns his suspicions were right, would be equally ineffective and stupid.

Dib sighed again and turned off his computer, and removed the blueprints back into his desk. _So much for that..._ The thought crossed his mind. He pressed the power button and the light source of his room had turned off, and completely shrouded the light in darkness. Dib lifted his wrist and contemplated the time that his watch showed. It was only around 5:57. Though with nothing else to do, Dib decided to go back to bed. What would be the point in staying up anyways? So he climbed back into his bed, pulled over the covers and removed his glasses...He already knew today would take an interesting turn.

• • •

" Dib...Stop staring at me." Gaz said, sharply. Dib's eyes came into focus and he did realize that his line of eyesight was in her direction; more specifically at her face. Gaz's eyebrows were furrowed and she groaned when he shifted in his seat. He looked down at his breakfast and continued eating. Dib couldn't help daydreaming today; he was trying to figure out ways to give Zim back his stupid blueprints. Also his mind had been trying to find ways to pry him away from that subject and wander around in his imagination. Which was successful every time he slightly diverged away from his ideas. And it caused all sorts of unwanted uneasiness.

" Sorry Gaz." Dib said quietly. She only groaned again, this time while chewing. He could say that he was used to his little sister's incessant solemn look and introverted behavior for all to leave her in her cherished isolation, including himself, but there was one thing that he would never really understand his sister; she always seemed to be upset about something. The only times he saw her smile was when Zim, or himself get hurt. Not that she was psychotic or masochistic in anyway; she only found it amusing if it were minor pains like stubbing a toe, or bumping head first into things. She would crank out into laughter specifically if the event involved tripping and faceplanting the wooden/concrete/tile floor and getting a nosebleed. Though he remembered as a child when he broke his wrist she was actually quite worried. And frantic, to be honest. And Dib had the thought that would be the only time that he would remember her being worried over his welfare...then again, there was the fight he had with Zim. Though she wasn't worried. Just...nonchalant. Like always.

Dib waved the idea and continued eating. This time he tried to concentrate on what he was going to plan on doing instead of letting his mind wander. Though after a while, he inevitably slipped back into his imagination and daydreamed once more. His father was at work again, and so they would have to stay inside until he came back. Which was always around the afternoon. He hated though how boring it would be when he couldn't go outside. He sighed and began to eat at the eggs he made and slightly grimaced when he did. Today he put to much milk when making them scrambled. It showed when underneath them they always left a residue of watery milk, and how their complexion was too bright.

Usually when their father was gone the Friday, Saturday and Sunday mornings, they would undoubtedly have to make their own breakfast. And so on virtue, they had to learn a few things about home cooking. It took a few months to finally prepare food that was edible and taste-worthy enough, however with Dib assuming for the both of them, they wanted to try and learn more without using a cook book for guidance.

On some typical occasions, some days their father was here the mornings, but gone the nights. Then they would have to serve dinner. As much _fun_ as it was to cook, and using the term _fun_ with light sarcasm, Dib couldn't decide if being guarded and protected under the service of one parent was a good or bad thing; not to be mistaken that it was undoubtedly a bad thing, considering the loss of...the _one parent_ ordeal. But on the small, not-entirely-_upsides/benefits_ of the situation, Gaz and Dib had a lot of freedom around the house; Figuratively and Physically.

They could walk around anywhere, do anything at anytime without being chastised for being in the way of something. They practically were the guardians of the household until their father returned. They also, technically, didn't have any rules that they needed to follow when nobody was here, however they still lived under the superiority of their father's rule...and...their mothers as well.

Dib finished his food and put the plates in the dishwasher. After wards he closed the contraption and entered the living room. Gaz had long finished her breakfast when he was daydreaming about cooking and household rules and was already on the couch. Though when he turned on the television and sat beside her, he noticed not the usual loud, hand-held Gameboy device that always seemed to be adhered to her hands and eyes, but a drawing pad. Which struck out as an error in Dib, from the norm. Gaz was actually doing something...pro-creational. She was drawing! Dib thought it would've been the end of the world in order for Gaz to do something innovative in her lifetime.

" Are you _drawing_ Gaz?" He asked out loud, even accidentally adding a bit of excitement to his tone. Though after hearing the energy in his voice, she immediately plastered the pad against her chest and moved closer to the other armrest. Then was the expectant glare.

" What does it matter to_ you_?" She asked defensively.

" Since when do you ever do anything other than play video games?" Dib replied.

" I had to start because of my Art class. Now leave me alone." She said, even turning a little red. Possibly from embarrassment, most likely from anger. Dib only grinned at her command. Though he listened and began watching TV, not entirely diverging away from the subject, at least, not yet. After a while of watching a few cartoons, he leaned his head to the side towards her.

" Whatcha drawing _Gazzy_?" He asked, jesting. She only gritted her teeth and shoved his head away.

"_ Leave me alone, Dib_." She growled. He only laughed at her anger and did as he was told. He knew better than to keep irritating his sister. He knew what would lie ahead if he did so.

He continued watching TV and gave Gaz her rightful privacy, however Dib couldn't stay in front of the television, doing nothing but stare and sit for hours on end like Gaz could. It bored him to death, and he would always find himself moving in the weirdest positions from his lack of energy and interest. It was almost as if the TV's job was to suck out the life of an individual to make them bland and bored. It sure would see so, seeing how effective in that aspect it was already. Dib straightened out and groaned. He looked at the time stored in the DVR set that usually displayed the time in the guide setting, and it said it was only 10:27. It had only been an hour since he began watching. Dib thought that it had at least been around three. However, he wasn't like Gaz. Such a feat wouldn't be feasible for Dib.

He groaned again and reached out his arm from the dangling position on the couch. He began pressing a button on the remote and surfed through the channels, not caring anymore about what he was going through or what the DVR offered in their broadcasts—They were all boring! Dib had never felt so much apathy before in his life. Deciding that he didn't want to do anymore of _that_, he turned off the TV and dropped the remote by his side. He would usually be studying, or doing homework on his free time, though now was an exception because he didn't have anything to study for. It had been the longest time since he last watch TV. He understood why now it was. At least he understood why homework could be in some way, a blessing...for him.

Dib removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

" My goodness, Gaz. How can you watch TV for so long?" He asked. Her eyes glanced up at his for a split second before the came back down to her sketches.

" Because I have a high tolerance for stupidity." She replied. " I have to live with you." She added, chuckling. Dib only huffed.

" Well I guess that makes sense...Not the thing about me...but that high tolerance...thing you...mentioned...beforehand—never mind, just forget I said anything." He said, waving his hand. He got up from the couch and meandered to his bedroom. However when he opened the door, the familiar feeling returned back to him, of reluctance. The thought of Zim's blueprints crossed his mind and it brought that stone back into his stomach. And then as if a chemical reaction, a sigh left his mouth. _Well at least TV is only good for making you forget about things you don't want to do._ Dib thought.

He moved forward towards his desk and reached for the handle. He opened it and removed the blueprints from their spot. He looked at the balled blue material in his hand and another thought came to mind.

_You can just throw these away. Dad doesn't have to __know__. Certainly Zim doesn't need to. Just throw these away, in you__r__ neighbors trash can and tell your dad you gave them back. Just do it. It'd be easier and better for everyone._

Dib lingered on the feeling it brought him. Satisfaction. It would be a very worthy event to see that Zim found out that his blueprints had been stolen, only to be thrown away. The thought of his reaction brought a smile to Dib's face. And then he considered the feelings in the future that it would bring him. Calmness. Achievement...Guilt. Dib stopped the smile. He never once disobeyed his father, at least one that he didn't do willingly. He never back talked or disrespected him in any form or fashion. And Dib knew that it wasn't going to start any day soon or later. Dib stuck the blueprints in his pockets, and left his room.

" I'm going outside." Dib said.

" You know Dad's rules." Gaz said.

" I have to do something."

" Like what?"

Dib knew where this was going again, and because he knew just how much of a stinker his sister was, he was going to need to spit out the truth to save him from trouble.

" Going to Zim's house." He said, with an annoyed exhale. Just the pronunciation of his name brought displeasure. Gaz continued drawing a while longer before she would answer and continue the conversation.

" You know, with the amount of times you head over to Zim's house, I wouldn't be surprised if you two were best friends" Gaz smirked. Dib felt his insides twist at that mention. And he forced away those words from mind. His immediate reaction was a hand that raised to his forehead, and he closed his eyes.

" That's...that's disturbing Gaz." Dib said, grimacing. Though she got her fill from it, laughing out as loud as possible. He wished he could find humor within her joke, however, it only brought discomfort. Dib shivered from a chill he received in his spine, and got goosebumps.

" No—_eugh!_ No...No—I'm going because Dad wants me to give him back his _blueprints_." Dib said, annoyed. Gaz looked up from her drawing pad at Dib.

" I forgot about that..." She said, pausing for a moment. "...you're actually going to do it, though? Just...waltz to his door and just "_ Here ya go!_" and leave?"

" What other choice do I have? There's no other strategy that I can think of. And despite the way I give them back to him; Zim's paranoid. Even if I just tossed them on his lawn, he'll use his security surveillance to just scope me and then the next few days try to find answers about why I was at his house and whatnot... And I don't want _that_." Dib said, crossing his arms. Gaz clicked her tongue a few times, and drew for a bit longer before she would continue the conversation.

" Make sure to bring water. Just in case that _nut_ decides he wants to get violent." She said, still looking down at her paper.

" Oh...good point." Dib nodded. He entered the kitchen and grabbed his water bottle. He filled it to the brim with water, and closed it tight with the cap. But after second thoughts, he loosened it up a bit just in case he wanted to do what Gaz did, smack him with the bottle for the water to pour out.

" So I'll be back." Dib sighed.

" Alright. Try not to be so useless this time, eh?" She said, chuckling at her joke once again. Dib only smirked at this.

• • •

Dib wanted to count all the times he tried to plan something elaborate and well orchestrated, but resulted in just bluntly walking towards Zim and act out the "premeditated" plan so platitudinous and blunt. Because it seemed to him that they were almost adding up with the passing days.

He was walking down the sidewalk, this time with his hands out. Dib's mind couldn't leave the subject of what he was doing and every time he consciously felt about how much he _**hated**_ this, it made him more annoyed. Plus he was also displeased with the familiarity he had with the route he was taking; striding up to his nemesis' house _once again_. In cases like these, he thought it should never be considered normal or perfunctory that you knew so well the way to your enemy's house. Like a daily morning grandma-walk or a stroll to your friends. _Just take a left, and then you go straight for another bl__o__ck, then a right, then another left, then another right, then BINGO!_ Dib thought, frowning. But he sighed and carried on anyway, only doing this for the benefit of his father. Knowing that his family came first in everything. Even if it meant to walk into the door through madness.

After taking the heeded advice from his mind to Zim's house, Dib's thoughts began to run rapid for ideas, and even began to unsettle his stomach. He began to try and think of strategies that could provide less social-contact, ones that could give him more ease of mind. _Maybe I should just toss them on his lawn. I'm giving them back technically. And it's not like my Dad said I had to apologize and respect him from now on._ The thought gave assurance. But at the same time, Dib knew. He just _knew_ his father expected it. He expected an apology, he expected for their to be an exchange of kindness and forgiveness. But what Dad didn't know was that this. Was. Zim. He wasn't one of _kindness_, nor _forgiveness_. Even if Dib wanted to apologize to him, which he didn't _at __**all**_, Zim wouldn't even be able to _be_ kind even if his life depended on it, let alone understand the _meaning_.

Dib scratched his head and groaned. The house was already in sight. And it was beginning to bring his heart rate higher. The blood flowing chilled to a cold, flow through his veins, chilling to the bone and his body.

**What ****is**** this fear? This...cursed anxiety! There is no need to fear stupidity, let alone even heed it's presence!**

Dib liked the feeling the thought brought, being accompanied by a small feeling of reassurance. He continued down the sidewalk until his eyes had widened and he stopped dead in his tracks. As he had been getting closer, he'd seen a figure in the distance. It wasn't yet distinguishable until he walked a few feet closer. It was Zim. Of course! _Of-f__reaking__-course_ it was Zim! He just so happened to contain the urge to leave the walls of house and enter into the outside world, at the conveniently placed time that Dib was trying to stay his furthest away possible when having to get so close. What was he even doing? Standing? Like Zim would take the chance to be seen by others just to get _fresh air_.

Dib clenched his fist. It was like the world liked to make things harder for him. And he hated it whenever he received that feeling. And it made him even angrier when he knew that he had to _carry on_. He took a deep breath and repositioned his glasses. Then he let out the air from his lungs and continued walking. The anxiety was gone at least...

He didn't even move his eyes to focus on the moment of contemplation, then the emanation of disgust on Zim's face. He stayed forward as he was entering the area around his house. Zim moved forward and Dib immediately grabbed out the items occupying his pockets and threw the crumpled blueprints. Zim flinched as the item catapulted and hit his face. His reaction was a dark, menacing scowl.

" You come to my house and then _mock_ me!" Zim yelled. However Dib ignored his vanity and presence as he turned around from him and continued his way out from his walkway, entering back into the sidewalk. Though Zim didn't take lightly to this. He marched towards him and when Dib could feel his presence too close, he opened the water bottle and whipped around.

" Don't you dare _touch_ me." Dib said bitterly, clenching the bottle tightly. " You think I came here on my own will? Just to... _mock_ you, as you put it?"

His actions proved effective, as Zim had stopped in his place, his cautious and enlarged eyes nervously flitted from the liquids to Dib's face. The revolting, rumpled swells were at the back of his head were still there, and the unevenness in his left shoulder still visible. There was even now a discoloration in his bruises, face and head. Noticing these details made Dib slightly disgusted as he thought of how those even appeared. Though with Zim staying still as a statue, Dib smirked at his fear. " It's so selfish that you think my world revolves around you."

" You..._**damned**_ fool." Zim gritted his teeth. " You take me too lightly, Dib. You think that you intimidate me with your _water_?" Zim said. Dib almost made a reaction to the curse word that slipped from his mouth. However he made his body stiff and showed no frailty.

" Whatever. I didn't come here to argue with the deaf." Dib said, straightening his back. " You have your blueprints. Isn't that what you _wanted_?" Zim furrowed his eyes and clenched his fists.

" Like I'm to expect _benedictions_ from _you_."

" Yet you still gave the thought consideration." Dib countered. He shook his head and turned his back to him. Zim's eyes thinned.

" How stupid are you to trespass unto _my base_, steal _my items_, mock me and then walk away as if it was nothing? You're punishment will _not_ be light." He spat. Dib only laughed.

" Punishment? Okay then, Zim. You win. You're..._intimidating_ me." He mocked once more, and even pretended to cringe, for a fraud act. Zim's hands were now in fists and his eye twitched.

" I find it counter intuitive and rather _disgusting_ that you came here on your own volition." As Dib was about to walk away, he sighed and stopped in his tracks.

"Haven't you heard a word I said? I didn't come here on my own will. I'm only listening to the command of my Dad." Zim smirked at this.

" Oh yes..._Father_..." Zim said, and laughed. " The one you _oh so obediently_ listen to even though he's _never_ there, too busy with his science which he puts before his own children. Shows how _important_ you are to him. But yet little Dib needs complaisance to feeble little creatures. How else is he to own any _worth_? " Zim smiled.

The remark spread animosity through Dib's veins like poison, and he sneered deathly at him. He tightened his fists and he even had the urge to throw. _Hit him. He deserves it anyways. He insulted you, and had the gall __to insult your father in the process__. Hit him..._ Dib fed his anger to the thought for a moment before he inhaled another breath of air. He knew that he would need to be higher than that. To raise above the anger and not let it take control of his actions, not like Zim. Dib closed his eyes and straightened his back. He even formed a smile when he opened his eyes and folded his arms behind his back. He released an airy chuckle.

" How sad...How sad of a word you must live in." Dib said calmly. Zim scoffed.

" Oh please—"

" 'Surprise of the year'...huh Zim?" He began. Zim's eyes were heavily focused now. They were directed at Dib's face and were filled with spite. Though Dib countered this with his mock-happiness and began pacing around slowly. He let his eyes fall to the ground, showing the confidence he had that Zim was of no danger, no threat at all.

" What was _that_ supposed to mean?" He asked, with fraud confusion. Dib snickered slightly and shook his head. He took a moment to glance up at Zim's face for the expression, and just in time to notice the tilt of his head towards the front of his house, more specifically to his blueprints, having been reminded of them. It was a cautious glance, when that wasn't meant to be noticed however Dib took pleasure that he was able to see his actions. He stopped suddenly and Zim whipped back, noticing the sudden movement from the corner of his eye.

" Oh no. Don't tell me..." Dib said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "...The blueprints? The... 'Surprise..." Dib couldn't help but laugh while speaking. "...of the Year'..."

Zim glowered at this mention and Dib had managed to make him speechless as he spoke. And Dib liked—no, he _cherished_ that sort of control. The ability to allow and _resist_ the flow of chatter, movement and all activity from a foe. As Zim stood as a statue, clenching his shaking fists and keeping his spiteful eyes on him, Dib was smirking and letting himself loosely move around about him, keeping him cornered. Letting him know his place. Dib laughed again.

" As I studied the language of your blueprints, I also did personal studies of what the device it portrayed." Dib began. "...A simple little satellite dish that could emit high frequency sound waves. Ultrasound and Infrasound, you wanted these satellite dishes to be able to transmit these very high frequency sound waves, so that it would tune in into the satellites from above. And as it orbited around the earth, release high, discomforting sounds that would cause..." Dib paused for a moment and snickered. "...Chaos and destruction." Dib said. He looked at the spot of the blue prints and shrugged, shook his head and glanced back at the expression on Zim. "..._How_ did you _plan_ this exactly?" He asked, the sentence riddled with laughter.

" I mean...I understand, prolonged exposure can cause psychological and physiological complications and disturb the brain...but who's going to _receive_ these transmissions? If you release those signals from your house, the only person who's going to hear them is _you_..." Dib said, making light of his plans. He shook his head again with another chuckle. " And even if you _were_ able to track into the satellites from above, they don't transmit this type of radio waves, neither would they just..._latch_ on to others near them..."

Zim was starting to breath harder. His anger was more evident and it was to the point that Dib couldn't even take him seriously anymore. _It was so easy to make him rage_! He thought.

"...Now how _stupid_ do you feel? On a scale through 1 to 10?" Dib asked sarcastically, even using his hands as a height estimation. Zim glared at this and Dib could only laugh.

" Knowing that the '_Surprise of the Year_' was just another failure to try and conquer earth...wow..." He said. And to complete the act, he began clapping. Slowly, in a slight pattern. He didn't know what color blood Zim had, but his face was turning a darker shade of green and he was gritting his teeth already.

" Bastard..." Slipped from his lips and he fought his hardest to control the rage that had been trembling his body. His blood had been flowing with heat and he felt chills travel down his arms as he uncontrollably raged at how much he had been insulted, scorned and mocked. Even though his greatest wish was to retort back in some clever way and reveal some of the anger that he had before, his tongue couldn't form any words and his lips stayed motionless. Even his body, shaking with rage, stayed still.

" And you know what's sad? It _was_ a surprise...The 'Surprise'—**being the reaction of how one could be such a **_**pitiful**_** excuse for an invader**."

Zim's heart stopped for the longest moment in his life. His jaw went limp, and was agape from the words that spilled. His eyes had widened and Dib's smirked only grew larger. For what seemed like a minute, he could not breath. And his lungs ached from the lack of oxygen. Dib began to turn to leave, feeling satisfied with the affect that he put upon Zim. His mind almost tore into two, as he tried to recognize the event that took place, replaying back like an old record. And he felt nothing but helplessness when he couldn't wrap his brain upon why that happened; Zim couldn't comprehend it, what he just heard. Even though the tone and the words that came out of Dib's voice was audible as well, and he could even remember the words...but he heard..._him_...

Zim experienced the same confusion, same unexplained emotions that ran rampant through his veins from before. The time in his underground base, wallowing. Zim's knees were almost shaking. And then was the twine in his chest. The wretched hurt that would sporadically materialize. Though now he felt it as it stretched further in his chest and even caused a junction in his throat. Zim swallowed and closed his eyes. Then he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. Dib had even dropped his water bottle in the distance, showing that he didn't even need it in the first place...because Zim was not a threat.

" Dammit..." He muttered, shakily. He turned around, and for reason unknown himself, continued down his walkway until he picked up his blueprints, and entered his house. Trying nothing to try and redeem the lost dignity and have any sort of final words, despite his indignation. Zim sat upon his couch and tried to think of logical explanations for...anything. His mind felt so shrouded that he wasn't sure anymore of anything. Why were these moments occurring? Where nothing made sense anymore...However when he couldn't find the answers, it only made him aggravated. He threw the blueprints away from him and he gripped the sides of his skull. His body heated up in the amount of mortification he felt, and the anger that accompanied it.

_Well, what do we have here...A crumpled, sad and pitiless rotter with a temper because it couldn't think of a comeback. It's really no surprise anymore. In fact...It's just disgusting. I don't even need to explain _how_ it is..._

Zim took a deep breath and leveled out his breathing. He needed to let go of his anger, it would do him no good to look even more a fool from his temper. He began breathing normally again and removed his hands to his lap. Though despite his best attempts, he couldn't help but feel just how much he** hated** that being. How every living fiber within him was thrown out of structure by the very comprehension of his existence. repelled by the appearance and sight of him.

It almost seemed impossible how much spite and sickness ran through his veins whenever he went to school. But yet he knew that this was what Dib wanted. He _wanted_ Zim to lose his temper just for him to rise above him. He _wanted_ Zim to hate him because he knew that he would see him for the rest of his days. He _wanted_ Zim to rage over their trivial arguments because he knew it made him look pathetic. And Zim hated this because he knew it worked every damn time. Every time, Dib was one step ahead. And it didn't matter if he didn't know about it or not, he always was and that was how it worked.

" Are you alright sir?" The Computer asked. Zim remained unmoved by his statement, and intentionally ignored him for the few moments he was thinking. Though he blinked slowly and rested his head against the armrest. His head was beginning to throb slightly; The nap didn't do too much and there was a remnant of a slight head ache now occupying his brain.

"...You monitor the cameras around the house; don't ask stupid questions." Zim said callously. He heard again the engine motors running and sounding off, and the Computer didn't say another word. Despite Zim's past wants to remain calm, events came into mind which ran venom through his blood. The silence acted as a swift match, kindling a fuse that made Zim clench his fists.

" How is it you notice the event now? What of the time when Dib actually invaded the _damned_ house! Don't you monitor the cameras?" He snapped.

"...I-I was rebooting after a system update. I wasn't able to do anything until he left—"

" Oh, the _convenience_! How you found the value of an update more important than the invasion of my enemy is disgraceful! And not to mention you didn't even activate your security assets **either!**"

" I am not able to control anything when starting up and shutting down, a-and in the process of an update—"

" Oh this is wonderful!" He yelled, standing up from the couch. " A _shit_ computer who can't even perform the given tasks, even _with_ the advanced technology and system processing that allows you to generate thoughts!" Zim's head was now pulsing with pain. The yelling was the leading factor to the worsening of his headache, and his anger was the reason of his snaps and exclaims. The bruises, the swells, All which still pointed back to _Dib_. Zim held his head and closed his eyes. He hated to think about how much his anger revolved around that **thing**. He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.

"...I...Sir, I apolo—"

" **Shut it**. If your actions can't prove helpful, then neither will your damn apologies." Zim said, looking up again at the television screen, knowing that it was the main visual output for his computer system. "...and to think that if you _didn't_ have a conscious, would make you more efficient." Zim said solemnly. He straightened his posture and even removed his hand from his head, in absolution. He said what he meant, and there was nothing more. As the sounds of the engines began to activate, Zim left the room, already annoyed at the fact that his computer could also have emotions, making him even the more useless.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: " Unknown "**

**" You want to _what_?" Skoodge almost yelled, his eyes widening with shock. Zim plastered his hand against his face and looked around, making sure no other forms of life could've heard his outburst. When he saw no one was around in the near vicinity, a chill passed down his spine, either from relief or fear.**

**" Shut up, will you? You can't be yelling like that!" He whispered. Skoodge shook his head, frightened and nervously.**

**" Zim you can't be serious!" He said, quietly, removing the grip from his mouth. Zim furrowed his eyes and tilted his head. This expression made Skoodge shake his head more rapidly. " What has gotten into you!"**

**" Skoodge, I will need your help." He said, looking around cautiously again. The halls were empty, and no one was in sight, however Zim couldn't shake the feeling of paranoia, knowing someone could still eavesdrop from a distance; The halls would echo the sounds and allow them to do so.**

**" Zim, I'm not helping you. No, I refuse." He said, and backed away from him. Zim sighed, aggravated.**

**" I can't do this alone. And I'll tell everyone about you cheating the scores." Zim threatened, as he pointed a finger, and jabbed it into his chest, making him flinch. Skoodge's antennae lowered and he frowned.**

**" I never cheated the scores! You're lying!" Skoodge said defensively.**

**" It won't stop people from believing me if I report your malicious crimes to the headmaster." Zim said, crossing his arms. Skoodge's lips pursed, and he was livid. After a few moments, Skoodge began with anger.**

**"I can't believe you! Why can't you leave me alone!" He said. After a minute of him pacing around, he tried reasoning. "You're going to ruin both of our lives! We're already in training, Zim! Isn't that enough?" He asked, shaking his head. Zim only watched earnestly as he saw him walk around, uptight, nervous. Then, as to be expected, came the guilt. " What did I do wrong to you? I've always been there and I've tried to help. Don't lie about me, Zim. I need to finish this school." Skoodge said, almost desperately. Zim exhaled a long sigh and placed a hand upon his shoulder.**

**" This isn't military training, Skoodge. These are basic, perfunctory, life-qualification qualities we will learn in order to dwell above. What we do next, determines whether if we will become an Invader, a Navigator, an Advisor, a Soldier, a Service Drone—Anything! Then we will have our qualifications encoded, take our tests, then if we are accepted, we enter into underground training." Zim said. Skoodge had a blank expression on his face for a while before he shrugged and motioned his hands in confusion.**

**" Wouldn't that be all the more reason _WHY_ we should _STAY_ in here?" Skoodge asked, raising his voice slightly. Zim frowned at this and straightened out his back, raising his chin.**

**" This school is only for the feeble minded, Skoodge. If you really have the tactics and the skills, you will learn to be able to perform skills and techniques before they consider teaching you." Zim said, placing his hands at his hips.**

**However Skoodge remained silent from his response, signifying he was still waiting for a plausible explanation, showing how the one he just explained wasn't persuading. Zim sighed again and furrowed his eyebrows at Skoodge.**

**" System hacking, code breaks, deception, espionage...persuasion." He added, leaning his head towards Skoodge with a small, sly grin. He only did this because he knew when Skoodge was thinking, he would look down to the ground, and a hand would rise to his lips, placing his fingers upon it pensively, which he was currently doing.**

**" These and more of the pertaining qualities of that of an Irken Invader. These things are viewed as lucrative to our society. To be able to take familiarity within the oblivion of our environments in order to install assets to overrule the factoring problems, and remove them with stealth, cunning work and expertise. If we administer these skills at an earlier stage, it would behoove us rather greatly." Zim said, placing his arms behind his back to portray a likeness of those of the Almighty Tallest. Skoodge thought about his words for a moment. He looked back up from the floor at Zim again.**

**" You make it seem like if we're going to be rewarded for this...This is beyond breaking the rules, Zim." Skoodge said carefully. Zim disregarded the last comment and raised his chin.**

**" Rewarded or not, it is truly only the knowledge that we need. Not the attention." Zim said, slightly irresolute in his answer. Skoodge only scratched his head.**

**" I don't know Zim. Too much is at stake. Can't you just wait for another 5 years? We're almost done with this academy, and we've already been here for around 12." Skoodge shrugged. Zim blinked and a slow exhale escape from his nostrils.**

**" As I aforementioned, this school is for the feeble minded. I am not feeble minded, Skoodge." He said, even flicking off imaginary lint from his uniform. He only shook his head.**

**" Okay, then what about me? Why do you want me to help you if _you_ want to get out?"**

**" Because you're the only one that can help me, Skoodge."**

**" Why can't you find someone else?" Skoodge said, sighing impatiently. He put a hand upon his forehead and Zim could tell he wanted nothing to do with this. There were many times in the past where Zim would result to the usage of Skoodge for his technical skills and take them to his advantage, however after the constant failures and punishments, there was a lot laden on Skoodge's shoulders that gradually mounted to heights that caused his magnified reluctance, objection and qualms about his ideas.**

**" You're the only one I trust." Zim said lightly. Skoodge looked up from the floor and at him for a few moments. He was seeing if what he said was true. To justify his claim, Zim placed a hand on his shoulder. Skoodge sighed again and reconsidered the ideas, looking back down to the floor. Zim let out an easy breath, knowing the results were well in his favor. He removed his hand from his shoulder and tried not to show how uncomfortable that situation he had put himself in was.**

**" Still...what...I..." He paused and let out a frustrated exhale. "What if your plan doesn't work?...I mean...you know, What if we—"**

**Skoodge was interrupted by the school alarm, and it was the indication that there was to be the transition from the academic training to the physical. Zim looked around again as the sounds of the boots stomping upon the metal floors in the near distance echoed intimidatingly. Zim glanced back at Skoodge and lowered his head, looking him in the eyes with solemnity from the dire of the situation. Skoodge's eyes widened and they both knew that if they were caught to be the only ones in the hallway, it could jeopardize everything by raising suspicions in every other student. One thing Zim was glad for was the quickness in Skoodge's awareness, almost reading his mind, Skoodge rapidly made the decision and finally whispered _Fine! I'm in!_**

**A feeling of success passed through Zim, as it gave rest to his nerves in the situation. Zim grinned as they turned from each other and parted, feeling confidence jolt around in his body. Soon he conformed within the crowd, and followed suit. Skoodge lacked the mind to say no to Zim. Even if he refused at first, with simple reasoning and persuasion, Skoodge would do anything he wanted. He was weak that way; easily manipulated. _And yet not smart enough to notice it_. Zim thought. He was always an easy asset. A tool _always_ capable of being found when lost. Then again...that was all Skoodge was ever needed and good for.**

* * *

Zim opened his eyes and had to spend a few moments trying to comprehend his current place. After being able to recognize that what he experienced beforehand was a dream, he realized he was on the couch and had fallen asleep again. _Curse__ these habits. I never randomly chose times to sleep before until that trash-computer gave that stupid advice_. Zim thought, closing his eyes as he stretched out. When he relaxed his muscles, and opened his eyes more slowly, he saw that the sun had been leaking rays in the windows, and shined a clear, brightness in the house. Zim sat up and felt a nauseous reaction to the force put upon his body when doing so. His head hurt slightly from being in an upright position, feeling the negative effects of gravity pull upon his head.

" Computer: tell me the time." He said, blinking slowly as he scratched his neck.

" 1:20 pm." He stated. Zim's eyes widened to an extent, as much as he could from his tired state.

" What is today?" He asked, this time more demanding.

" Sunday." This brought a sense of relief, and he sighed to himself as he rested his head back against the headrest of the couch. He closed his eyes, and breathed more slowly. _Damn it, Now I'm worrying about being late for school...__Curse__ all of these...__abnormally obtained__ habits_. He cursed mentally. His eyelids burned from the ache of his forehead, garnering heat around his head and body from his sickness. It was times like these where he questioned his sudden immune system's weaknesses and his sporadic vulnerability to the germs and pathogens of the world.

Although he knew it was inevitable, for the fact that to enter upon an entire new universe would contain more species and strands of diseases and illnesses that would affect him greatly. Though it didn't mean it didn't piss him off whenever his mission was delayed because of a stupid...

_ Ah...Interesting._

The sound of a generator running, and of the motors pushing from the kitchen took Zim from his mind. He knew those sounds belonged to when one would descend or rise from the transporter tube. And there were only two people capable of physical transportation. He raised his head and looked into the direction of the kitchen entryway. Zim watched as Gir had risen from the toilet and gingerly stepped down. His indentations were still present and he made his way, cautiously, to the living room. However when he realized he was under the undivided scrutiny of his superior, he stopped immediately and his eyes widened.

Zim felt a mixture of reactions to this. A sneer formed on his face and he forgot about his illness. He felt irritated as he remembered how he had so cowardly ran away and remained in hiding for days. Angry at how he so foolishly thought that he could stride up into the living room any time he wanted, after what _he_ did. A punishment was in due of this, and Zim fed his anger to the thoughts as he furrowed his eyes, wanting to exact it towards the well-deserving imbecile. In turn, Gir's eyes lowered in a doleful fashion, and his lower lip shivered. He cringed against the corner of the wall and removed his eyes from Zim to the ground, not knowing what to do.

Confused. Fearful. Zim saw this, and when he realized that Gir's mind was as limited as it was, he stopped and thought about the rationality of his feelings. He glanced down to the floor and let his thoughts take his mind. He exhaled a few silent deep breaths, and the umbrage he felt towards his presence was gone. Zim glanced back up at Gir, who's eyes remained the same, however were now lightened with confusion, and felt an inward disappointment. At what? Zim wasn't so sure. He exhaled through his nostrils and shook his head slightly. But then he saw something in the corner of his eye, and when he turned to look at it, the feelings of his anger resurfaced.

It was that damned hole in the wall. The one that was still left untouched and not a single attempt to fix it. The kitchen was visible through it, the broken wood board and plaster, not to mention the stains of blood.

" Computer...**why** is there still a hole in the wall?" Zim asked, furrowing his eyes again. He looked back at the TV screen and released an air of impatience.

" There...There was no command for me to—"

" Oh—Was _that_ what you were waiting for? _My_ command? _My __**damned**_ command to tell _you_ that you need to fix **yourself**? Your damage?!" He snapped.

" I-I am under your authority, sir. I cannot act without your direct demands and wills."

" You _see_ the damage, Computer! the damage that was done to _you_! It has been there for 3 days! You are under my authority, but you do not wait for any authorization to heal yourself!" Zim almost yelled. This house was the entity of what he called the Computer; the main data and functional properties were of his engine and generators, however he controlled all of the devices and outputs; he had even built the house when Zim designed an outlook for the structure. He controlled the very functionality of this domain, and so to command the Computer to fix itself was pointless, as it was supposed to have done so without notification or precept. It was as redundant as telling an Irken to breath.

"...Sir...If I may; you presented this conversation with the wording implying you had previous commandment which I, in that case, had wrongfully ignored, and you were indignant. If you were concerned over my welfare, why follow your argument with anger? If no wrongful act hadn't been committed? Needless to say, the damage was also on virtue upon the feud between You, and S.I.R. unit Gir."

The Computer said, as lightly as possible. For the longest moments, Zim couldn't form speech. His tongue stayed glued in his mouth, and his eyes widened upon his claim. It formed mortification over his unwillingness to act and then the anger ensued. He gritted his teeth and glowered.

" You dare blame _me_ for the damage? As If I aimed upon you with _intention_?"

" Sir, with all due respect; those words never left me."

Zim, again, had been outmaneuvered. Such an act, to purposefully question the doings of an officer, when the insolent inquiries belonged to that of an underling, and to agitate them with useless and offensive probing, could be worthy of punishment. Zim's face had turned a darker green, and he stood from his seat.

" Of all times, when you could've used that _conscious_ of yours, you choose _now_. When you couldn't apply it to following orders, or even to _fix_ yourself. When you feel the need to try and _justify_ your worthless existence, you **use** it. In _**altercations**_." Zim hissed.

" What use is a mind when all it does is slow down your processing, your _production_, and _corrode_ your value? What's next? Am I to command you to **use** it when **needed**?" Zim clenched his fists, and in that moment he had wished to see an expression; one that could reflect that of cowardice and subjection. The ultimate refusal to respond in another insolent fashion and to see the damage his words had done; to see the . Alas, it was the engines the computer twisted involuntarily, the processors and the wire networks that functioned as a brain that made him satisfied; knowing that his emotions were still there, and how he could tell the intensity of which they occurred judging by the ferocity of the machines turning and activating, despite how efficient they were at these tasks with silence.

"...No Sir..." The Computer responded, morosely. The pain from his headache rebounded and Zim slightly leaned forward, and grasped his brow. The illness shot back nerves and reminded him of it's presence. He closed his eyes temporarily to linger in the pain, before he would disregard it's presence. Zim took a deep breath and straightened his back, folding his arms behind it. His eyes thinned, however he kept his glare upon the screen and released a deep breath. He was again imitating the likeness of the Almighty Tallest.

" Let's hope so..."

• • •

Gaz had been drawing again, however, the majority of the time she had spent on her sketchbook, was making outlines and shapes, then erasing them and trying again. Her task was to draw a human in a sitting pose at her best ability, though concerning that she had never drawn before, it wasn't to be sublime. A practice was the intention. Though this proved to be frustrating by how scrupulous Gaz was and how superlative she was wanting the outcomes from her time spent on this to be. She would growl and flip the pencil around the grasp of her fingers, changing from it's edge to the base, and erase ferociously at the horrid details she had drawn.

Drawing never concerned her. To be talented in any aspect never came to mind, and to be meticulous in practicing any activity wasn't important to her until now. Why was she so persistent on having perfection? And why _wasn't_ she achieving this? Gaz lingered on the thoughts, but when her eagle eyes saw her hands make a mistake, she let out a yell.

" Stupid paper!" Gaz roared, and clenched the rod of her pencil and violently jabbed the eraser at the sketch pad and pivoted her elbow. Resulting in a fierce, and rugged laceration at the thin framework of her paper, bending and folding in the path of her attempted erasing. She cast the sketch pad away from her, slapped against the wall, and fell down to the floor. Nothing had ever made her so frustrated before, and she even held her hands in fists. Immaturity at it's finest, however she felt righteously angry. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't draw. And if she had never drawn before, why did it have to be at her best ability? She raged at her thoughts and brought her feet upon the couch, rested her head against the armrest, crossed her arms and turned on the TV with the remote.

" Gaz? You alright?" Her father asked, over the walls of the other room in the kitchen.

" Fine." She said. " Stupid teacher." She mumbled soon after. Along the lines, there were a few utterances of execration. Gaz tapped her finger rapidly on her arm, and watched the commercials that played with detachment and petulance. From any unaware person, if they were to enter the room and spot her glaring at the TV like so, they would have amused thoughts. Though after a while, the shows managed to seep the peevishness from her, but also was just as capable to replace it with impatience. Gaz had been watching a few cartoon programs, which in fact none of them have helped in taking away her anger, but because spent her mind on something else, it was drained.

What she normally watched, in contrast of those horrid cartoon programs, was sci-fies, thrillers, investigations and murder mysteries, etc. It was a great pastime for her, however currently, and conveniently, there weren't any of her favorite shows on at all. So she resulted, in a hurried, and impetuously, in watching cartoons. Gaz thought that the aloofness and lightness of the cartoons, both in style and mood, would cheer her into a better attitude. It only managed to make it a degree lower.

Gaz turned off the TV, and placed a hand on her brow. She went over her thoughts and realized her tantrums. She reflected slightly, but not entirely from viewing of mistakes. At least...not any from her.

It wasn't until she heard Dib's and their father's conversation that she realized their presence. She remembered that when their father came home, he immediately asked for Dib's presence in the kitchen, once again, and Gaz waved this and continued drawing. She listened more keenly on their conversation, now that she was more conscious about it, and understood the subject they were conversing about.

" Dad...I understand you think I owe Zim an apology, for stealing from him, for calling him an alien...But if you listened, if you just listened to my side, you would understand more."

" Son. I'm trying to teach you morals about people and their respective cultures."

" Zim isn't a person!" Dib emphasized.

" _Lower_ you voice; _Who_ do you think you are talking to?" His dad said firmly. A sigh escape from Dib's mouth and Gaz imagined him putting a hand against his forehead.

" Even if he was, he has no respect for anybody else, he even made fun of you." Dib said, defensively.

" I rise above those insults because they come in forms of opinions, Dib. All of the facts I already know about." His father said.

At around that time Gaz stopped listening and sighed. It wasn't until Dib had his suspicions about Zim again that their Father-Son conferences reestablished. And it seemed that it was always revolving around Zim. It was self-explanatory on why that was, however it was almost like their lives revolved around his life. If Gaz's father, and especially Dib, learned how to ignore the inept, things would be better between the two. They wouldn't have constant arguments and restarted conversations if Dib learned to leave Zim alone, and if their Father saw what Dib and Gaz had seen.

She sighed once more and slouched against the chestnut, cotton couch and drummed her fingers against the plush cushions. Her eyes paced back and forth from her sketchbook and the front of her lap. It bothered her to know that she was concerned about something so unreasonably hard to do. However because of it's difficulty, it proved frustratingly stupid how much she wanted to improve. However, she didn't feel too charitable to start trying to draw again; the anger still lingering from her last attempt. And after that, she began listening to the conversation once more.

" All I want for you is to respect people." His father said, gently.

" I do, Dad...I just don't respect _him_."

" Why? What is it with him that unsettles you so much?"

" If I told you why, you wouldn't believe me." Dib said, complaining in a slight whiny way. Gaz imagined him to be pouting slightly. Like he always does when he uses that annoying tone of voice. She hated whenever Dib whined, it always felt like a scratch at her ears. And it didn't help his cause in any way, concerning it got him no where with anyone he spoke to with. Unless it was Dad...But they were always having that conversation, so he didn't count.

Gaz tried to continue listening, but there was a silence between them. One that she imagined would be uncomfortable to be in, especially with a parent.

" Dib...if anything...I _want_ you to tell me. If anything, I want to believe you..."

Gaz stuck out her tongue and momentarily, and suffered the awkwardness for Dib. She always hated those moments where an elder or loved one tried to comfort you with an extended hand and compliment side by side, whenever you were feeling down or dejected in any sort. Or those times where there was a dispute. And heated words were exchanged, and where after a while you would make up and apologize; those icky, warm moments that made the heart melt and the stomach puke rainbows. It was more awkward than anything else in the entire world. However at the same time, Gaz realized something. An accompanying emotion that confused her in the process.

Their father would have this little meeting with Dib for almost weeks on end. All the while, for her to stay out of the kitchen while they talked. Even though she could hear through the echoes that passed the halls, They talked. They talked for hours. Sometimes it wouldn't be too long, only around 15 minutes. Despite the duration of their conversation, it was always about their father trying to teach Dib better. About how he was trying to mold him to have high morals.

Why? Professor Membrane had high expectations of his children. But that would be inaccurate to say...a more acute, correct alternative would be he had high expectations of his _son_. He was always trying to make him into a better person, trying to teach him the rights from the wrongs. Whenever Dib got into trouble, he would chastise, and then show a caring, helpful hand. One that a father should do.

However, there was no reprimanding whenever Gaz did something bad. There was no loving generosity after wards either. Then again, the reason why that was, was only because the last command from her father she could remember was when she was little, and when he had told her to "Don't do it again." And that was only because she did the usual a child wasn't supposed to; disobey their parent's rule. After wards, she minded her own business.

She did what she was supposed to. She didn't do what she wasn't. It made sense why their meetings were so frequent; Dib couldn't get his head through the meaning of what his father wanted from him, and same went for his father; He didn't quite understand what Dib did. Gaz didn't have any problems with Zim, he was just some weirdo kid who Dib called an alien. It wasn't any of her business of whom Dib liked and didn't, so she didn't pay much attention towards it.

She began to ponder upon the rationality of the feelings this "new founded information" brought. If anything, this information was old. She found this out a few years ago when Dib began taking interests in engineering. It was something that made their father more proud than ever, and at the time Gaz hated it. She felt betrayed and she felt that she would never forgive Dib for being the favorite child, however over the years she learned to accept that parents had their expectations from their children. Sadly enough, not all of them met those. Gaz learned to shrug it off a few years back, and remembering it now seemed to take a small toll.

She looked down upon her hands and sighed quietly. She hated feeling wronged, at something so trivial. _So what if Dad liked Dib more than me? Am I to forever hold a grudge against him because I didn't receive the amount of attention I would've liked? No, that's stupid. If my dad felt that I was a normal, nothing-special kid, than so be it._ She thought and closed her rested fingers into a small, bunched grip. As much as she hated to think about it, it came back to her wanting of drawing. It was probably a sub-conscious way of wanting to prove to her father, which she felt was a very pitiable attempt, that she could be better then he expected.

" Son...you have great potential; I've seen it through your skills. In engineering, your curiosity. Though you center your time around these paranormal things and especially around Zim...I just want you to live your life without regret." She heard her father say, and made her pensively wonder about those words and meaning.

_Those words...potential...skills...__Could my father say the same? To me?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: " Schoool issues "**

**Zim tapped his foot impatiently and took in a sharp inhale through his nostrils. He breathed out slowly and re-opened his eyes. He stared directly into Skoodge's which expressed his anxiety and absolute fear. However, despite the undignified expression, Skoodge stood his ground and was beginning to be more resolved. This was to be dealt with accordingly, knowing Zim couldn't handle the time to manage both Skoodge and his plans, needless to say that they were _illegal_ plans.**

** " You did..._what_...exactly?" Zim asked, glowering. **

** " Zim...I still need to think about my future. I know you wanted those guide coders today, but I still need to think about my status." Skoodge said defensively.**

** " Skoodge. If you're planning on helping me, then I expect you to do as I say."**

** " Zim, _you_ are not my priority. _I_ am." Skoodge confided, standing taller. Zim's antennae twitched. He kept his glare directed at his eyes until face faltered slightly. Zim sighed and raised his head, and kept his back straight. He took a slow step forward, and Skoodge in sequence, took one back.**

** " You can't make me choose my mind, Zim. You do whatever you feel you need to; I will help you but I need to keep up my status, or else people will get suspicious." Skoodge said shakily, under his trembling tongue. **

** " Skoodge, there is no time for you to choose when you listen and when you don't." Zim said, with disappointment. " It's either you do as I say, when I say, or you don't..." He paused and raised his chin. "...I highly recommended the first option..." Zim said, approaching him casually, and squared his shoulders. **

** " But you didn't listen."**

** " You hurt me! You hurt me and this is off!" Skoodge cried, trying to keep a stern voice, but resulted in wavering with fear. He continued to step backwards until he was stopped abruptly by the outface of the wall. This brought a heaviness in his gut and his nerves spiked.**

** " One must take necessary precautions, Skoodge." He began, placing his arms behind his back. Skoodge didn't say anything else. He was already beginning to sweat.**

** " Which comes first, Skoodge? Your status..." Zim said, as he stopped, nearly a few inches in front of him. H****is face was leaning to the side, trying to avoid eye contact, while flattened against the wall****. "...Or me?" Zim asked, reaching for the base of his PAK device, extending out the intended weapon**.

* * *

Zim lazily opened his eyes and the feelings of the physical world re-entered his conscious body and reminded him of his illness. He groaned and closed his eyes once more, remembering also he was at "Schoool." He furrowed his eyes as the small headache pulsed through his brain, and the upset squeedly spooch that churned and writhed in sickness. Zim groaned again and opened his eyes as he lifted his head from the desk. His habit of falling asleep was probably on virtue of his body's reaction to the sickness; therefore garnering energy in his dormant state to tend to his illness. However he wished his PAK device and immune system would do it more efficiently.

The other kids at the table exchanged furtive glances, as Zim woke back up. Some of them even looked annoyed that he fell asleep in the first place. He watched as they all drew, pencils scraping against the papers from the hands of amateurs. The ability to take the likeness of anything onto paper or parchment was crucial when learning engineering. It was a given that Zim had learned a long years back, and perfected this skill to create his own devices and mechanics when needed. It failed to impress him that the humans only did it for _fun_, and for _self-expression_, as the teacher called it. What _good_ came out of anything if it was completed just for _expressing_ oneself?

" Zim..." His name was called, however it brought irritation when uttered. Zim glanced up at Ms. Zoe, his art teacher, who was at the side of the elongated table, hovering over him. " Are you feeling alright?" She asked, concerned.

"_ No_." Zim said, wanting to make this a snide remark, however his voice cracked and faltered under his sore throat. The teacher leaned forward, and lowered her head to match his level.

" Hey. I'll take you to the nurse." She said, even letting out a smile. Zim slightly flinched at this, and remembered how she was one of the only teacher's who didn't immediately react with disgust over his green skin; so naively believing that he was telling the truth about his far-fetched condition...Not that the other teachers, didn't believe him, concerning this race, believing in aliens was a rash idea, though it didn't fail to make them hate him. Ms. Zoe was different; she treated him like any other student...It didn't mean it was a good thing. A moment later she stood taller and walked to her desk, and finally he realized what she said she was going to do. The words brought a queasiness that only added to the effect of his sickness. Zim let out a quick breath to try and release the retrieved feeling.

" No. I'm fine, I'm not going anywhere." Zim said, raspy.

" Zim, were you able to do any work? Ms. Zoe asked, not hearing his quietly pronounced statement from before. Zim furrowed his eyes.

" I said I'm fine!" He snapped, to the best of his ability. She looked up, startled from her desktop. There were a few moments of silence, and the other students were staring at him. He could almost feel eyes embedding into the back of his head.

" You don't sound fine to me, Zim."

" I'm _not_ going anywhere." He confided. After another awkward few moments, Ms. Zoe chuckled and shook her head, trying to understand what exactly this student was having problems with.

" You..._want_ to stay in class?" She asked, removing the pen she had in her hand on her desk. Zim was about to answer this and then stopped before he uttered any words, receiving second thoughts about this conditions. He had mixed feelings of this. If he left, he could leave school and forget about going to the _Nurse_. If he stayed...there actually wouldn't be any positive sides for him if he stayed here.

" No..." He confirmed.

" Zim...What..." Ms. Zoe chuckled again. "...Do you want to go to the Nurse and tell her about you're sick?"

" I already said I was fine! Are you deaf?" He snapped. Ms. Zoe's face blanched of all expression, and her eyes widened. Then the next second she frowned and wrinkled her brow.

" Do not _yell_ at me, Zim!" She said.

" Who are _you_ to tell **me** what to do? Ms. **Zoe**?" He stood. Her mouth went ajar for the longest moments, and her expressions flickered. Until it was settled into a deathly sneer, she had been clenching her fists. Zim didn't know that he would find out very quickly.

• • •

Dib walked down the bare hallways, and enjoyed the loneliness while it lasted. There were a few times where a student or teacher would past by, teachers with a smile or a blank expression (depending if he knew them or not), students with a frown. He didn't care what people thought of him anymore, he stopped trying to make friends when he moved on to middle school, and was still followed by the invisible aura that made him so unlikeable to others. It was something that he knew was just inevitable. So he wouldn't waste his energy trying to change something that he couldn't. Dib entered the cafeteria and was making his way down the lunch aisle, when he already started hearing the muttering of the other kids' in the lunchroom. They were whispering, exchanging glances and giggling. Dib just shook his head at their gossiping and like every day of his life, neglected the deriding talk around him.

_There's Dib. The little freak. Oh look, there's an alien! Oh wait, that's just Dib. He got beat up from Zim! The loser!_

However, despite his intention to ignore the words that came out of their mouth, the act of acknowledging them in the first place lead his mind to elaborate their words and annoy him even more. Dib continued to get his lunch and he made his way down to the table where Gaz was.

" They're uptight today." Gaz said nonchalantly, as if this were to be an important notice. She referred to the kids around them. Dib wished he could just take in their childish insults with passiveness, however their whispering only lead to him feeling more depressed and angry.

" Yeah..." Dib replied lowly. He drank from his milk carton, grimaced and extended his arm out to see the side labels. To be expected; expired last week. Dib let out an aggravated sigh and placed the carton back onto his tray and placed his elbow against the table, leaning his chin upon his palm.

" Someone tried to insult me for being an acid drinker." Gaz remarked, just as apathetic as the last one. Dib only shrugged.

" Kids these days don't have brains to think with." He replied, and made his sister chuckle.

" That's why school was invented. Oh, I'm sorry. Schoool." She stated. Though after their exchange of short chuckles and jokes, they remained silent, as Gaz continued playing on her Gameboy, leaving Dib to his own devices. With nothing to do, He stared blankly in front of him, daydreaming. He remained like this for a while, though he was soon interrupted with a startling flick on his cheek. Dib felt the slight moisture and remains that was left from the speckle that hit him, and realized that it was a pea that was launched upon his face.

He groaned. The other kids were giggling around him and he saw another boy with an entire tray of peas, and a spoon. For a reason, he wasn't giggling maniacally like the other kids. Dib then realized the unfamiliarity of his face and figured that he was a new kid. It wasn't unexpected of the children that didn't like Dib to enlist the new kids in their little groupies and posse, then try to enforce their behaviors onto them. It happened every time, to be honest. And the kids wouldn't even have the morals to question their reasoning, but happily created a facade of hatred because their friends wanted it. It was the reputation that they cared about, and not the character, Dib knew.

The kid had a small smile, finding a bit of amusement from it, though it soon disappeared when the kid he assaulted furrowed his eyebrows at this. Dib only shook his head, and the negativity he felt from this, as well as the wrinkled, green conditioned vegetables on his tray reminded him of Zim. His eyes then searched around the lunchroom where he then spotted the little fiend a few benches a way in his same row, which in turn...he had been staring at him.

Dib only turned his head away, knowing that this should be expected from such a being like Zim; one so bizarre and peculiar. He remembered the event taking place where he insulted his pride and completely ridiculed him. Then he remembered the childish emotions that came in result of this insults. Dib smiled. Everything about Zim was so amusing; his immaturity, his extreme egotistical nature and short temper that molded into only one possible form that in no case possible could be accounted to be taken seriously or important.

Not to mention his incapability of any rational ideas for conquering earth. All that time spent, was to work with something that wouldn't even function properly. Not only was it embarrassing, but down-right disappointing. Zim could at least try, especially with his extreme sense of hauteur and self-proclaimed greatness, to be a challenging foe, not some bumbling idiot that had a swollen head...literally.

Dib looked back at Zim again and took note to the bruises that were still splotching his head. He then remembered to the small bruises that occupied his own face, and felt for them. He'd forgotten about them mainly because no one seemed to notice. He would look in the mirror occasionally and remember them, however with things at hand, they would disappear from memory. They were present, however they didn't hurt until he touched them. The swells, which weren't too bad, disappeared after the usage of the ice packages and pain meds. Dib wondered temporarily why Zim's were still present. Then again, being whacked on the face with a plastic bottle could do some damage. And considering Zim could have a different tissue anatomy, his flesh was probably weaker. Or whatever. It didn't matter.

" So what happened the day you went to Zim's house to return the blueprints?" Gaz asked, turning off her Gameboy. Dib glanced at her actions as she set the small device into her backpack, and soon copied his bored output pose, chin on palm, elbow placed upon the table with apathy. He reasoned that her Gameboy had died and so she resulted to conversation. Though also questioned why she had the sudden interests she had about him. Usually Gaz would never, ever talk to him. He only accompanied her recent questions and statements with usual conversation mainly because he felt obligated to, not entirely obliged. If anything they were awkward...but...that wasn't necessarily a bad thing she was opening up in a sort of way. Dib just needed to learn to get used to it. So in turn, he shrugged and sighed.

" I just...walked over, threw it at his face...and then we had a bit of an argument."

" An _argument_? About _what_?" She scoffed. " The _quality_ you returned the blue prints in?"

" No, argument is the wrong word, sorry...More like just a brawl of insults and snide remarks." Dib said casually, taking another glance to whom he was addressing.

" Huh...that makes more sense...I can't think of any sort of official _debate_ that could be made mature between you two." Gaz said. He only huffed, however felt a build on of the steam. Her remarks weren't necessarily insulting, but they were becoming unnecessary and annoying.

" What about the water? You didn't have it when you came back." She asked, looking around the cafeteria as she spoke.

" I didn't use it...Well, I sort of did, as an example."

" What does that mean?"

" Showed he was no threat. So I dumped it and left, indicating that I didn't need it in the first place." Gaz looked around a while longer before she clicked her tongue and put down her head against the table.

" Kind of a waste..." She commented, tapping her fingers. After a few moments, she sighed. "...so is that why Zim's staring at us? Cuz you guys had some sort of...old-lady _bickering_ contest?" She asked. This time Dib didn't intend to look, as he already had a fill for today of seeing ugly. He only sighed to this, let the affect of the annoying remark settle, and reposition.

" Yeah...that's why." Dib replied, blinking slowly. Though his attention was caught by the kids in the tables in front of him, out of the corner of his eyes as he saw them lean their heads in. They were giggling still, but this time they were pointing in another direction. Dib followed their trace of eye sight and they were gossiping about Zim. Another likely event to happen, however, the new kid was setting another pea on his spoon, under the peer pressure. And with Zim's occupied eyes still staring at Dib's face, for whatever trivial, justifiable reason he had, he was unaware of what was about to happen. Dib watched with interest, and he saw the new kid prepare his spoon for a launch, setting his finger at the tip to gain the potential energy.

When he flung, he couldn't help but glance back at Zim, who was actually looking down at his food plate. The pea hit him in the side of his forehead, and he flinched, letting out a small _ack!_ Leaving a splat against his face with the moisture, and soon with the small steam reaction. Zim gritted his teeth, and immediately wiped his head. His glove coated hand had picked up the smudge remainders of the vegetable and when he was able to identify what it was that hit him, an angry, resentful face was shot up to Dib.

" Oh great." Dib sighed.

" I knew that was going to happen." Gaz chuckled, seemingly she had been watching all along and making the same deductions as well. Zim squeezed his hands and the glare intensified. Dib was yet again reminded about how easily ticked off Zim could become when he saw the solemnity of his expression. Dib watched him as well, on the inside felt a bit of a blood rush, thinking about what Zim might plan to do, however on the outside, he remained to look apathetic. And to exert the lie that Dib had flicked the pea at him, he grinned. The one that he knew Zim hated. Surprisingly enough, he only stood and left the food he didn't touch, and stormed out of the lunchroom, slamming his hands against the doors and forced his way out.

" What a wuss." Gaz said, and put her head back down, almost as if she was disappointed. Though Dib had a feeling that Zim's actions were foreboding, that he would plan to exact his vengeance in some way. And it brought an unwanted queasiness again.

• • •

Zim was tapping his fingers against his biceps, his arms folded. He waited considerably in patience in the Main office, for Principal Downing to finish some conference so that he would be lectured by her again. The clerk at the desk was typing rapidly, even for her old age, she had great coordination. There were times Zim would find himself staring at the wrinkles and seemingly impossible looseness of her skin, that contrasted the dark grey hair with only a few white highlights. She had a considerable shade difference in skin tone than the other students or teachers at the school, which was weird because from what he knew she was the only one of her race here. She was probably the school clerk, and from what he saw on her name tag, she was known as Mary Durham.

Zim found the irony in that name rather quickly, considering how his idiotic robot was rather obsessed with it.

" Okay. Are you...Zim?" She asked, typing a little more before she glanced at him from her computer screen. He considered the pause she had before he realized unlike the humans, he had no surname. That would have to change soon.

" Yes." He answered.

"...Okay, normally the teachers are supposed to give you a pass before you leave the classroom. Next time can you get one from your teacher? I'd be easier to enter you in that way." She remarked, clicking her mouse a few times. Zim didn't know what it was that a Clerk did, however it seemed tedious for all of these little occupations for the humans to have. Principal, assistant principal, office clerk, administrator, student services clerk—It was all unnecessary! Why they couldn't just have one person do multiple tasks was beyond him.

" Alright." He replied, nonchalantly.

Zim found it rather interesting, which in turn he hated to find interest in anything human-related, that the human species had many different races and ethnicity that was surely uncountable. And in turn of that, had many diverse languages, and those languages could be accompanied by dialects. Though the reason he found himself staring at her was because of the likeness of her age. He found it disgusting, however curious that the humans lived for such a short time, became so decrepit and weak, but yet were the strongest species on this planet.

Zim glanced around the room and sighed silently to himself. At that moment, the door to the principal's office opened and abundant amount of people left the room, chattering with one another and some of them even so abrupt as to stare as they passed by, then start another conversation about that _weird lookin' kid that was sittin' in the sofa!_ Zim growled under his breath at this when he heard that exact line leave one of their lips. He'd been here for well over a year, he wasn't that much of a phenomenon anymore. The Principal approached him, separate from the group and placed her hands on her hips.

" Zim, school's almost over. You have about a minute left, so we'll just have to do this meeting tomorrow, okay?" She said. Zim shook his head slightly again and stood from the seat.

" Fine." He said before he left the small office room. Zim placed his hand at the push door bar, and the mechanism unlatched as he made his way out the room.

" Oh and Zim..." The Principal called. He turned back. " Tomorrow...during lunch? Try to keep the food on your plate. Those custodians work hard for you not to be hungry." She said, with a demeaning smile. " And we've had our fill of food fights for the week," He only nodded and left. Zim knew that she was referring to the event earlier today, casting almost his entire tray At Dib when lunch ended. He was sent immediately for detention, they both were, but it was worth it. He entered the small, glassy vestibule in the front of the building and left through the school's front entrance. This day had been rather annoying, filled with time-wasting walks to the nurse and principal's office, only to be told what he already knew, then be assaulted by Dib, with his disgusting, insolent pea that he found so amusing to—

Zim stopped in his tracks. It was raining outside. He remained untouched underneath the entry canopy of the school, which stretched a few good meters before it stopped, structurally sound underneath the black painted brick pillars. However, it didn't fail to annoy him even more that he would have to find some way to walk through this bullshit. Zim clenched his fists and looked around him as everyone was so casually able to enter the showers of horror without consequence; he could even be able to consider that intrepid if not for the obvious reasons why it wasn't.

At that moment, when Zim was at his peak for his tolerance level of the inconveniences of the world, Dib walked past him. Zim furrowed his eyes as he turned around, and began walking backwards. He began to move to the right and entered the rain. He was taunting him, the bastard. He even did so much as to raise his arms, and show with his fugly smirk that just screamed _too bad for you, isn't it?_

Zim only shook his head as Dib, feeling satisfied with his little demonstration, turned around and continued walking away. Shortly thereafter, the bell rang and after a considerable distance, Dib waited. Presumably waiting for his abominable little sister, Zim sighed and leaned against one of the pillars, viewing the little droplets of death as they were a mere arm length away from him.

The children flooded out the doors rather quickly, and for the longest minutes, it was loud and the air was filled with the chatter and noises of the students leaving the school. It was crowded and it was even loud enough to out sound the rain, though there were moments where thunder clapped, causing a slight flinch in everyone. Zim sighed, trying to think of a way back to his house. He wasn't too fond of the idea of having to call Gir, knowing that all he could do was pick him up with his...

Zim then remembered the accident they had, and realized that he would have to repair the damages done to Gir's body; not to mention the distrust and distance that emanated after that event. He groaned, having to cross out any option. For a while, he was trying to figure out any safe transportation home. Through that time thinking, he'd spent a good ten minutes there and the population of the people around died down. Zim had sat down beside the pillars and was lost within his thoughts. It was more quiet, however the rain only became stronger. The only benefit was that Dib was out of sight and Zim no longer felt the need to retch.

" Zim? What are you still doing here?" A voice asked. He turned and glanced up, looking at the owner of the voice. It was Ms. Zoe. _Of course it was. Why wouldn't she come here at such a convenient time?_ Zim thought to himself with an inward groan.

" Waiting." He responded raggedly and looked back towards the distance.

" For what? Your parents?" She asked. Zim wondered and wanted rather badly for her to leave, however last time he expressed this as it was necessary, he was sent to the principal's office. It was really unpleasant, and judging now they were outside in the rain, doing so might lead to even more unpleasant places. He only scoffed at her remark, though his throat didn't allow it to be audible.

" For it to stop raining." He said. There were a few moments of silence, before he heard the sound of her jeans rustle. She knelt down beside him.

" You know, it's supposed to rain until 10:00 o'clock pm. You really plan to wait that long?" She asked. He could tell there was an amused smile on her face from the tone of her voice, and it irked him._ Irked...what a __**stupid**__ pun_. He thought momentarily.

" If I have to." He sighed, and coughed. Zim still neglected to look at her, keeping his eyes at the rain before him. Still ticked about what happened before.

" Is this about your skin condition?" She asked. Zim only nodded. After wards, he was able to enjoy the peace, disregarding the rain, while he was sitting beside Ms. Zoe before she stood up again with a sigh leaving her nostrils.

" You're a good kid, Zim. You just need to learn to open up to people sometimes. I know must be hard with your skin condition...I can imagine the bullying."

_ Oh great. Here she goes...Dammit_.

" I don't take personally to what happened earlier. It's been a while since you've last been here, and I know something must've happened that caused you to ditch school..."

_Yeah? Keep guessing._

"...Here. Take my umbrella."

_You can take your umbrella and stick __it__—_ Zim didn't finish the thought, and he looked up at her extended arm. She smiled lightly and she slipped it into his hands.

" I have a car. I don't mind getting wet. And besides. You need it more than I do." She said. Zim kept his eyes on the object she handed him for a while, before he glanced back up at her. He stood up slowly, and questioned the logic of her decision-making.

Ms. Zoe didn't expect a thank you, or any sign of gratitude. He was a very self-centered person, and he didn't seem to understand many things about the general generosity and benevolence many people have towards each other. She assumed it was this way because of his background, which she wasn't quick to judge him. After all, all types of people came from different settings and families. She only smiled, patted his shoulder, and continued strolling down the walk way. Zim stood there for a few moments, thinking about what just happened. Why it happened. And most of all...why he felt that feeling again. Though a few moments after wards, he shook his mind from it and walked home; cautiously, frightened, and nervously...but safely, nonetheless.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: " New is Underway "**

Zim questioned the rather mechanism he held. It was very elementary in it's structural build, however it's simplicity was what intrigued him. Shielding him from most of the water that was like acid to him; He wondered why he never decided to make anything like so. He walked down his walkway and up to his front door and opened it. However, as he noticed the runner was connected to the stretchers, he pulled it down and the fabric of the umbrella collapsed. This also lead for the gathered water to slip down, and it spilled on his arms, causing him to shout and cast the umbrella away from him.

" Sonofa..." He gritted. Zim clenched his wrists and the previous feelings of glee escaped from him. For something that could repel water, it was counter intuitive that it could gather just as much upon it's canopy. " _Damned umbrella._" Zim hissed.

" Are you alright, Sir?" The computer asked, however Zim didn't hear him over his annoyance. He walked over the wet abomination and headed into the kitchen. He stopped as he noticed the hole in the wall was gone, momentarily felt gratification, and continued on to the next room. Zim opened up one of his cupboards, and grabbed a cylindrical container.

He began to apply the healing paste he created a few months ago, while studying the elements of the water that hurt him, and the components of his own DNA that was effected by it. It stopped the steaming and it helped rejuvenate the weathered looking skin, but the shock still remained in his nerves, and the pain lingered a while longer. He was about to replace it back in the cupboards before he realized he could use this on his bruises and swells. Considering it and then re-opening it, he smoothed over his face. Zim wondered momentarily why he didn't do this earlier. Then he realized the stupidity of his actions, remembering how the formula was created for the harmful effects of water and not for superficial wounds or unsightly bruises. Zim sighed.

" Computer; where is Gir?" He asked raspy, grabbing a mirror and observed his face.

" Gir has been located down underground...he's in hiding again, Sir." The Computer responded.

" Only to be expected. " He groaned, or so he tried. Zim replaced the container back where he got it from and exited the kitchen. He kept his sleeves up and gloves clenched in one hand to let the remaining paste be absorbed by his skin, and he returned to the living room where he cautiously placed the umbrella into the closet. When he opened the door, he saw and remembered the security robots, or rather the ones he used mainly as parental figures. They remained lifeless within the small room. Zim placed down the umbrella and closed the door, shaking his head, remembering how useless they were to him.

Even when he re-programmed them to think more like humans, and fixed their electric routers and reaction trips so that they would spasm less and behave more like humans, he only used and activated them whenever a stranger came by, requesting for them, or for whatever other circumstance that required their presence.

Zim sat upon the couch and reclined on his back, setting his black gloves upon the floor. He let out a deep breath and closed his eyes, finally being able to rest. He placed his hand over his hurting brow and as he was no longer focused on one purpose, the pain over his body was emphasized. His throat felt dry and no matter the times he swallowed or cleared his throat, the presence of the uncomfortable soreness and infection prohibited a certain volume and emphasis of speech.

" Sir, I recommend that you return to your test subjects." The computer said. Zim repositioned on the couch slowly, trying not to stir much stress on his body. He sighed slightly

" Why?"

" For the past few...months, I've been tending to their needs and have completed the daily objectives that you have assigned yourself to do. However, I feel that despite my efforts, your subjects have been deteriorating in health. Especially the Neural Experiments."

" Why do you think so?"

" Well...As humans, they are very meticulous in needs. They require social activity, which they do, they speak among themselves, but remaining in darkness in your labs can cause many problems to their health. Not only that, The food I repeatedly feed them isn't enough for their nutritional needs, and so a revisit to your pantry and for their food sources can be of assistance in their welfare. And mainly...those probes. Their brain probes, which you've designed to continuously electrocute their neural networks, particularly aimed at their limbic systems and other emotion generative areas, have been having severe side effects of shock—not any surprise—periods of withdrawal, or even times of PVS.

" These electric shocks limit the nervous system of neurotransmitters of certain neurochemicals, which in turn give out only designated substances for the drive work of the designated emotions. And because of that, you are also limiting their cognition of their brains—"

" By the gods, Computer! I know this. I created those probes, I know how they work." Zim interrupted, coughing after wards. The Computer paused for a while before he continued.

"...They can't detect threats, sir. Their nervous systems are, for the lack of a better term, out of whack, and they are showing signs of more emotions, rather than the limited one emotions per probe...It wouldn't surprise me if within a few months, those probes neutralized them. I'm surprised by the fact they lived for so long under those conditions." He stated. Zim sat up and sighed, rubbing his eyes.

" What are you suggesting? I remove those probes? They're lodged in their brains, Computer. I bet those are the only things keep them alive. Judging by how deeply those probe are engaged, and by the weight of them, I bet those are the only driving force that keep their brain working and intact." Zim said, raspy, opening his eyes to the TV screen.

"...Well...with all due respect, you need to do something about that, it's a serious situation and you're taking it too lightly. " Zim hardened a look.

" What, do you want me to go down there and let them _watch TV_, or take them _outside_? Give them _Bloaty's_ pizza?"

" Whatever it takes, Sir. Ease their pain." He said. Zim kept his eyes on the screen for a while before he scoffed, and shook his head. He reclined back down against the couch and rested his head against the armrest.

" They're just humans..." He murmured, annoyed, a little more loud than expected

" Humans as they may be, sir...They are—" The computer paused abruptly. Zim waited for a few seconds for him to continue, but heard the engines of the computer revving instead. He was processing.

" Sir, Dib is near the premises. He...He's..."

" He's doing what—" Zim said, more alert, sitting up in the couch, but was interrupted by a sudden ear-piercing shatter. He flinched and whipped around to see the cause. A large rock entered through the window and rolled against the carpet, leaving the window in pieces. Zim watched it for a split second to realize that Dib had cast it inside. Then another sound of the splitting shatter caused his rage, as the rock hit against the arm rest of the couch.

" Dammit!" He yelled to an extent that spread pain, immediately stood and ran to the door. He opened it, but as he did so, Dib had launched another rock in time just as the door opened and it spiraled towards him. Zim shut it immediately and let it slam against the wooden surface, before he re-opened it and stopped himself before he fully engaged in a mad sprint in the rain. He he saw that the _Dib_ was actually a poorly made model that had a catapult device for an arm, and saw a loading system behind it.

It was filled with three rocks, specifically for the event of shooting at the windows and door. The drawn Dib on it was of course with his smirk. Zim clenched his fists. The garden gnomes, shooting their built in lasers at a high energy, successfully broke off the arm of the figurine. The sight fed his anger, however animosity spilled in him, and his clenched fists caused the material of his gloves to creak. His breathing became rapid and blood rushed through his body. A sneer crossed his face and Zim grabbed one of the rocks. Impetuously, he yelled, turned and flung it, and broke through the head of the imitation, falling apart as the lasers had weakened the material. He began back inside and marched through the living room.

" Sir, I mistook—"

" **Don't talk.**" He said deathly. Zim continued on to the kitchen and leaped on the toilet, beginning to descend down. He was tired of all of the taunting. The deriding insults. All of the hatred and the mocking tones of his enemies. How they all rose above him, Dib especially, and managed to bring him lower. He was sick of being here, occupying the planet he was destined to destroy. He felt the anger slip through his veins and he squeezed his fists as tight as he could. Dib always managed to make his days worst. He gave him hell, and Zim loathed it. But that was what Dib wanted. And he got what he wanted every damn time. If Dib did something, and Zim was able to get him back with a retort, Dib returned with an even bigger ricochet. And he wouldn't give up until he got the last throw.

Zim dropped down onto the lab floor base and landed, ignoring the pain that spiked through the past areas he landed as so, and continued on to his Laboratory.

He began pressing keys against the keyboard and he registered codes and activated his machines. Soon enough, with the thoughts running through his mind, he set his Project's on state. _The blueprints Dib saw...they were miniscule drawings._ Zim thought as the different parts of the room removed themselves from the areas to create space for the ascending project. It detached floor tiles, dislodged counters and tables as the machinery orderly disassembled.

Zim took happily to the appearance of his weapon; It didn't matter if it was unfinished or not. Using it to destroy this pitiful race was his mandatory mission. He entered another code as the process of it assembling finished, the satellite dish nested upon the roof and it's generator near the ceiling. He reprogrammed the machine to effectively send it's radio signals to the orbiting satellites above. Thoughts of annihilation and massacre of a grandiose scale gave energy through his nerves, and a smirk creased his face. It instilled a bit of rash excitement, finally being able to accomplish this long waited operation.

_They don't transmit these type of radio waves, neither do they just...latch on to others near them._

Zim's heart skipped a beat, however he ignored the received feeling and overwhelmed it with his anger and recently received excitation, blaring the thought that brought a sense of doubt. Zim began to administer the types of radio waves it would broadcast and selected the few most highest. He began to pick as well the accompanying sounds and other sound waves that he had researched upon, that are damaging to the human brain. What Dib didn't realize was that this was a sonic weapon; something that could kill or incapacitate with the mere intensity of the sounds waves being submitted out into the open air. Zim had done his studies. He wasn't a _fool_. He knew how this worked.

_**How**__ did you __**plan**__ this exactly?_

Zim even remembered the sound of his mocking tone, his laughter that mortified all of his attempts at being a threat to the human race, but only ended up being the laughing stock amongst his enemies. Zim shook his head, and paused for a few moments. He closed his eyes and enforced the thought of his mind and then he began to feel his arms and hands shake involuntarily. He ignored this immediately and continued typing at the small keypad. Zim adjusted the Hz of the sound waves and the frequency, setting the pitch to a high sequence, high enough for penetration and absolute impairing for the ear drums, but low enough for audibility. He then realized he was trying to distract himself.

_Now how __**stupid**__ do you feel? On a scale to 1 through 10?_

_ Knowing that the 'Surprise of the Year' was just another **failure** to try and conquer earth?_

Zim stopped what he was doing, and his mind wavered. It no longer tried to ignore these thoughts; the feelings that came with them. Soon he lowered his head and after a few moments, it turned into minutes to where he was doubting everything. He let it take effect to him, and he realized that just how much of a waste of time all of this was. The creation of this condemned-to-begin-with project, trying to initiate it in his childish attempt for resolve in his anger.

His impetuosity that clouded every decision he made with his blunt emotions and groundless logic-making that made him into a fool. His immaturity that was the fuel to his anger and the leading factor for all of this...vanity. All of this he did because he simply felt wronged. As if he deserved better. Zim clenched the ends of the counter again and was beginning to loathe the feelings he was recently receiving. They always brought nothing but more pain and it didn't help his situation in any way. He tried to keep his breathing level, but in the end his attempts got him no where.

_It was one thing that you did stupid things and made your own image of stigma, but it's another level entirely of disgrace when you pity yourself. You used to be a symbol of praise. You had dignity, valuation to your work and ethics, and you gave no look back to anything, anyone. Now...you are simply a revulsion amid the people. Abhorrence becomes you, and you pity yourself more because you can't seem to get what you want. These hideous emotions that cloud you, your disgusting guilt over vindication, your softness for when you put one in their place, for they knew not who they addressed or spoke to, and your ruth...Ruth! Towards yourself and to others! When you felt you **wronged** them! By any means possible, they wronged **you** by their existence! You came here to abolish these creatures. They are vile, reprehensible things that were meant to be enslaved to your home planet, and serve your leaders! Do not think twice when striking!_

**...****Why?...**

_Why?...You ask me...**why? Why in the hell do you think!? You came here in the first place to destroy them! You don't heed them as people!**_

** … I came here...on mission...no...because it was exile...**

_Then you prove your worth, you idiot! The Almighty Tallest only did so because you showed no value to them! Once you conquer this planet, and enslave it's race, and deliver it back to The Almighty Tallest, then they will see the mistake they made to exile such a valiant Invader!_

**And if that didn't work? If that didn't prove our 'valiance'?**

_There are no "if's" you fool! I will not accept that you are losing faith within your Leaders! I've noticed your unwillingness to finish your own sentences because you fear that they may no longer be true for whenever you address your eminence! It has been tough, but you have survived tougher situation and endured a lot more hell than what you're going through now! Do not break under such circumstances, they trial you purposely!_

**If you have faith within those leaders, than you are just as delusional as you have aforementioned about me. Groundless, insolent ****trust**** to those who don't even so much as like you. You try to prove yourself of worth, when clearly no one is around for you to prove to, ****no one to care****. We are abandoned...We have accepted that...Why haven't you?**

_ ...You are all fools...**Idiots** with minds filled with Angst!_

_ **We fear that the only fool here, is you...**_

Zim realized that he had been on his knees. His eyes refocused and it felt like he had just waken up from a dream, although he had recent memory that suggested otherwise. His hands were flat against the cold floors, and he blinked slowly. He sighed and let his body give in to his uneasy shaking, the uncontrollable rampant emotions that poisoned him. The pain in his chest he recognized as guilt. The chills that so frequent shook his body was fear, and sorrow. These feelings were unknown to him...mainly because he spent so long neglecting to recognize them.

He spent years in training to make himself void of emotions that were deemed useless, and unproductive to his work ethics. He would be weak if he wasn't able to overrule and maintain his own trivial mental functions, and so he endeavored to not be so; It meant denying his conscious, and to sacrifice whatever sagacity he had left. Why? For the service of being an Invader. Their tactics required them to perform works and complete tasks that disregarded the earthly, carnal feelings of the Irken mind. They were required to kill races, destroy planets and conquer and enslave the natives, that ownership over a conscious wouldn't allow.

But most of all...for the loyalty to the Almighty Tallest. They were the root of all Zim's doings, wanting to please them, wanting to honor them was his duty. It was the duty of any other Invader, of any other _Irken_, to symbolize the Almighty Tallest and to glorify them. The Irkens gave their hearts, and would give their lives if it meant exalting their beloved leaders...

...And to be shunned...to be banished. Scorned and demeaned by those of your heroes, your righteous leaders and those you gave your life to...It was more than just destruction of the soul.

And to be humiliated directly, to be selected from a group of thousands...and chosen to be the target of their hatred, and laughter. It was devastating.

Zim was prostrated and he remained against the touch of the cold floor for the longest of times. Finally recognizing the problems of all of his predicaments, the root of all things, and if anything, it felt like defeat. There was no gratification towards finding this solution, no reward.

Zim's head began throbbing again. Emotions weren't the only apparent condition he was ignoring; soon he remembered the twist in his gut and the soreness in his body. His state, both mentally and physically, weren't faring well. His headache brought a sensitivity to light, and to open his eyes hurt the tops of his eyelids. His bruises and soreness in his back right shoulder, his head. Zim thought about his recent past actions, yelling when his sore throat wouldn't allow him, acting out of his anger when his body willed that he didn't, and now it came down to sick exhaustion, hurtful intakes of breath and a nausea that hung over his head.

Though in a strange, indescribable way, among the pain of his head and the fullness of his throbbing brain, he felt almost like...an emptiness. Something that was present before was now gone, and made his head feel light. I might've been his literal dizziness on virtue of this, however it wasn't so much as a physical feeling. It gave a bit of... ease of mind.

Zim no longer saw, thought, or did anything that automatically triggered a sense of procrastination for his 'mission'. The nagging voice that brought his motives down with demeaning words that hovered in the corner of his mind; his self-conscious. It was gone...and it made what he did...almost easier. No longer held down by being worried if what he did was beneficial for the completion of some large task at hand, or if it would be disadvantageous. He felt a freedom to decide what he would do now without being judged every second of his life...even if he was doing it to himself. For once, for the tiniest bit...felt a bit of freedom.

• • •

Red paced around the front of the main channel doors. After a while, he would glance up from his nervous daze, and a hand would shoot up to his chin. After receiving no results, he would continue pacing. There was a perpetual constriction in his throat, and an inconsistency in his gut. Not only did it not help that he hadn't eaten anything—not anytime during this day—which considerably degraded at his energy, Red could only foresee what would happen. He knew the mindset, the intricate, vague, rationale of the I.C.B. No matter how hard they tried, they were basic data bases; and data bases always had some sort of misshape. Everyone, or every_thing_ in this case, has a set of roles and principals they run through from their own experiences, altered by their moods, and moral standards, etc. Irkens and Humans and things alike do it so much that it becomes almost like a style; habits able to be deciphered. And from what Red has gathered...the outcome would not be pretty.

" Red; Almighty Tallest. Enter the domain." A voice announced. The very annunciation of his name sent a wave of momentary trembling and bitter coldness. He forced a swallow to try and loosen his throat, and continued on through the channel doors. Red persevered to keep his legs from showing any shaking as he walked to the middle of the chamber. Purple was already present and he glanced back at him as he approached to his side.

" Do you know why you are here, Almighty Red?" The voice asked, which Red only knew it was a question because of the format of his wording. The pitch of his voice suggested it was a statement. Red nodded in response, though it was more of a fidgety shake. He slipped his hands into his waist pocket and grabbed a writing utensil and preoccupied his hands to keep them from moving involuntarily. He remembered the sound of Purple's voice, the prosody of his tone of persuasion which for reasons he didn't know always left him speechless. He made his tongue latch on to the roof of his mouth and he no longer felt the need to continue whatever argument or conversation. It didn't even have to include vocal communication; in many cases to keep their talk silent, they had correspondence from their unaccounted data computers.

_Sooner or later, We tell them, Red. We can't keep hiding this forever and expect the outcomes to be in our favor. It wouldn't surprise me if they didn't already __plan for our punishments__. They have ears that stretch to oblivion_.

_How? The Massive is one of the safest places away from the Imperial Control Brains..._

_ Yes...but they monitor every part of the building, granted that the Massive is a ship; they're very curious. However, it pains me to say that I'll have to go be the one that tells them about suspicion. _

_Rat__ on me, __Purple__? When it was our idea to throw Zim out?_

_ It is not an attempt to make myself look any higher, Red. It makes the situation plausible. And I hate to say it, but it was your idea to share this out with everyone._

_ I didn't mean that I wanted it public. I said it wouldn't be detrimental if it wasn't a secret. _

_ Yes...Though If they have eavesdropped into our conversations, then for me to share my "suspicions about you" would only be realistic._

_ ...I suppose so...__What if they take into account about my...beliefs about power Purple? What then?_

_ ...I'll be there to explain it was just an idea...because in the end, they were just thoughts and premeditated plans that had no intention of being executed...Or at least they now __**should**__ be...Alright?_

_ …Yes..._

Red blinked a few times and cleared his throat.

"...Yes..." He answered. Red decided that the utensil in his hands wasn't helping, for the fact that his hands were only becoming sweaty. He removed them from his hands and replaced it back into his waist pocket. He mimicked the posture that Purple _oh-so well_ kept into composure and tried to calm himself. Red consciously noted that there was more than one Imperial Control Brain and they made a half circle around them. Even as machines, built by the Irkens themselves, they could intimidate beyond belief.

" We have had reports that you have kept crucial information about the location and welfare about Irken Invader Zim confidential over the last year. Is this true?" Another voice asked. Red nodded again. Purple had risen his head from the ground and glanced up, almost as if he was surprised his name was uttered. Red soon removed it from mind.

" Yes..."

"...Explain yourself..." She commanded. Red took a silent deep breath and finally willed himself to look upon the machinery that spoke to him.

" Irken Invader Zim was a defective; the severity of his state was unmeasured. Judging from his past actions; from murdering his own people, shutting down half of the planet's power and electrical systems for a snack, and killing the past Almighty Tallest, I deemed it worthy of this particular being to be considered a threat to our planet, and to exile him without a further conclusion or approval. He has been on mission, or at least he thought so, on another planet, Earth."

" Without _our_ conclusion or approval." She said crossly. Red swallowed, feeling his mouth becoming dry from the anxiety. He nodded once more and looked back to the floor.

" You, of all people, should know how that type of treason is disciplined with, Almighty Tallest Red. You passed a judgment onto a fellow member of your army, Invader Zim, a decommissioning decree of his entire worth rank and followed on your own druthers to sentence him to trial in the process. All of which was completed without any previous notification nor any authorization claims that would've been your approval, Almighty Red." She stated. " Let's not forget that—"

" My apologies, your Majesty. Permission to speak." Purple said, his eyes slightly formed in perplex.

" Denied; You, Almighty Tallest Purple are charged with the same offenses, for you were an accomplice in this treason. Is it not true that you were having this dispute with your comrade because he told Invader Zim what he shouldn't have known? Because in all truth, you two both exiled him in covert, without approval. Your punishments should be _catastrophic_." She remarked, darkly. Red and Purple both set their heads lower, and kept their eyes to the ground. Red predicted the actions of the I.C.B wrongfully. He knew in some way they would have to undergo punishments, however he didn't know that they knew about the conversation he had with Zim itself.

" And about your ideas of dominance; The Irken Empire thrives on the idea of expansionist force. We, with the aid of our military and covert Invaders, as well with the advanced technology that assists our galactic conquests, are a system of absolute power and control. The planets we siege and then take control becomes our underlings and we enslave them for our needs."

"We treat them as so because we hold the power and are higher in the hierarchical class. However, your ideas to subdue our own people would only cause our success to plummet, and our domain to crumble. When you confuse the assigned tactics of treatment to enemies with allies, then you have failed within your duty, as a leading role in your people, to promise your people of value." Another Control had said.

Red felt a layer of sweat on his brow. His breathing was held managed, however that prospect of maintaining his composure was weakening. If he didn't stress his muscles as he did to remain constricted, he would be shaking. Despite the soreness that was stretching across his arms, he remained in stance. His gut had been twisted and for once he was glad he hadn't eaten.

" **Don't** tangle the strings again, Almighty Red. We assure you that it will **not** be tolerated." He commented, and Red measly nodded his head.

Another space of silence spread through the room, and silently, killed both the Leaders from anxiety, for the severity of their punishments were still to be known. Red almost considered closing his eyes to temporarily relieve his mind of a sense to concentrate better.

" You both are on temporary suspension. Your say and any involvement in any legislative, political or economical parties and events will not be accounted for, nor granted, for the duration of three months. Your positions will be slanted and your rights of the Almighty Tallest functions are taken away until further notice. Until then, you remain in the palace. Attending social affairs of the people will not be allowed until your trial is ended."

Purple and Red raised their heads in unison. Their penalties had been alleviated exponentially and they were perplexed. They glanced at another for a quick few moments and then back at each of the Imperial Control Brains, obviously questioning the acts of them.

" Reasoning is what you want..." One remarked.

" Because. Almighty Tallest Red and Purple, you have both secured this empire from a potential threat, one that could've caused a great corruption, judging from the deeds you spoke of. You acted out for the protection of your people, and yourselves. Understandable that you acted against the law, however not excusable. Don't think committing this twice will earn you the justice it did as so demonstrated now. Impetuosity will gain you no further than your demise. " They explained.

Red immediately felt a sense of relief, that almost drained the entirety of his anxiousness. However the two feelings fused for a bit, as he still yet remained within this chamber, as there were more to be announced, which could mean the more they could be punished. Red nodded and so did Purple.

" You will get what you wanted, Red." She spoke. He raised his antennae, and widened his eyes. His name being addressed to and being told he were to receive something he wasn't entirely sure of made his heart skip a beat, which caused a jump in his chest, but he tried his best to conceal that.

" A Trial; Invader Zim is too dangerous to be wandering around as we speak. We will hold an Existence Evaluation and if necessary, condemn him accordingly to what we find."

Red didn't know how to feel about this. It was all happening a little too fast, and he waited a few moments before he officially understood what they were speaking about. He stood taller and stood in formation.

" Yes, your Majesty."

" Pass the information on to Invader Zim. The Trial will be held in a year." Red almost frowned upon how long the duration of that was, and he was taken a back a few moments.

" A year? Why for that amount?" He asked.

" We are in the process of enslaving the natives of which your army has retrieved. The planets they conquered have been rather rebellious and the amount of soldiers we pressure into those areas have only been but unprofitable. We require more guards, battalions and authorities to control their behavior. This is as well as detrimental to the economy, spending the expenses on our facilities to handle these planets. It will take the time necessary, and for precautionary steps, the trial will be set in a year." She spoke. Red thought about the words she said. Inwardly, he was disappointed. He'd wished that this Existence Evaluation would be sooner, which would be all the more marvelous to get rid of the mistake that was created long ago. However, he couldn't deny that he was overall grateful that it was going to occur in the first place. He chose wisely not to speak his mind, and only agreed to the circumstances.

" Understood." He remarked.

Silence hung once more in the chamber and the system sounds of the Control Brains accentuated.

" Report back to us when you've delivered your message, Red and Purple. You have our permission to leave."

On that note, Both of them left out of the room in order. When the chamber doors closed behind him, Red was able to take deep breaths again. He did so and grabbed a handkerchief from his waste pocket, and wiped the layer of sweat that gathered on his brow. He hated the visibility of his nervousness, and despite the number of times he visited the I.C.B, they always made him anxious. They weren't a force to reckon with lightly, and this was the lightest punishment he'd ever received. They odds were very unlikely and strangely favorable for him. He wasn't too sure now if that was presently a good thing. However suspicion was never tolerated by the I.C.B either.

" Well that could've been worse." Purple broke the silence, as they walked slowly down the halls. " That could've been _a lot_ worse."

" It still has it's potential to being so." Red added, with a shaky sigh.

" We got off easy. It's not known to happen, however it doesn't make it an impossible outcome, Red." He said, lightly. Red wished he could have as much optimism as his friend had, however he wasn't the type of person to have it as such. He just shook his head and remained his eyes to the floor in front of him. Judging from the reaction Purple took to the information about the sentenced trial, which Red didn't tell him about threatening Zim, Red would've expected Purple to express his curiosity about it. However, as they left the corridor, all he did was take a glance behind of the area they were leaving and they parted ways once they exited.

Red walked in thought. As he thought before, he was able to recognize habits. Though with Purple, knowing he would be wondering why Red concealed such information, he didn't express any thing about the subject. It wasn't entirely something to worry about, as irrelevant as it was, however it did spike a bit or confusion.

Red pushed the door to his chambers and entered the furbished room. The door shut behind him and he removed the excessive armor.

" Almighty Tallest Red. You have just received a message." Roxi stated, as Red sat down against his soft bed. He took a moment to try and relish the comfortableness of the cushions, however he sighed and got back to his feet.

" Who from? Oh and...I'm stripped of my title temporarily. Further on, just address me as Red." He remarked, as he sat down against his desk. The light flickered slightly and it caught his attention.

" Yes...a message received from Almighty Tallest...er, Purple, if the circumstances have equally affected your counterpart." She said. Red thought momentarily he would need to call service drone for the slowing of his light, and then glanced back down at the monitor.

" Yes...okay, I'll view it. You may enter sleep mode." He permitted. She did so and a few of her activated engines shut down. Red had thoughts that maybe the expected expressed curiosities of beforehand would be presented in this message. He moved the cursor and clicked the headliner.

_You never told me you threatened Zim._

Red scratched his chin as he thought about ways he could summarize his reasoning into simple replies, to explain himself.

_I didn't think it would be important_

_ Well apparently it was crucial for the I.C.B._

_ I didn't know that they would comment upon it. It never occurred to me that they would've heard my argument with Zim._

_ Well one thing for sure is that you don't listen. When I said we talk about everything, we __**talk**__ about __**everything**__. Small "unimportant" details included._

_ It's nothing to be angry about, I'm sure._

_ It doesn't matter about me being angry or not, what matters is the argument you had with Zim. If you threatened him to trial if he returned, what else did you say to him?_

_ I told him that __the planet he inhabited was not marked for the Irken Armada Planet Jackers treaty; remember when they visited us in concern about how one of our Invaders over-crossed the treaty? Surely enough, It was Zim. Anyways, then I went on telling him what he didn't know, and after wards I brought up back the recorded history of his crimes. Then I told him that if he were to try and come back to Irk, he would be sentenced to trial, an Existence Evaluation to be punished. _

_ ...And how did Zim react to all of this?_

_ Shocked...Desperate. And a lot of other ways I don't feel inclined to describe._

_ So be it...okay. Well, within a few days, we have to call up Zim and tell him about these conditions. Though I have a feeling the little brat is going to try some way to run and hide, considering how all we've got is __**You have to come back and receive your punishments**__. That is, in no way, convincing. Especially because the trial will be held in a year. _

_ Well...Then we have to give him no options. Make it seem like he's under surveillance of some sort, so that he'll be watched. And if he tries to do anything then we stop him._

_ Stop him? How? We're not going to be able to do anything if we're galaxies away from each other._

Red sighed and thought a while before he would respond. How would they manage to try and keep Zim from doing anything stupid? He was a very unpredictable menace to the society and judging by his somehow self-unnoticed insanity, would be able to do anything if it meant saving his own skin. Red massaged his temples for a while before he thought about an idea, and soon into it's details.

_ ...Well, That's why I have a plan..._


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: " It's Personal " **

" You got into another fight?" Dib's father almost yelled. Dib only kept his eyes against the platform of the table, to keep from guessing the type of expression his father had in his face, hidden behind his glasses. In turn, his father sighed and placed his palm against his brow, obviously disappointed and frustrated at his son's inability to learn anything that he was trying to teach him for these past years.

" It was a food fight." he said lowly.

" Oh...Oh, okay—yeah, that's _relieving. _Dib." He said, the tone of his voice like mordancy to Dib's ears. " Dib, what happened all of a sudden that brought you back to...hating Zim and having all of these pointless fights with him? What did he do to you that makes you hate him so much?"

" There's more than just one way to reply to that, Dad." He muttered, scratching at the table, trying to evade any lineal eye contact or conversation. These little meetings were becoming so frequent that it was now embarrassing to have, and it made the outlook of intended disobedience assumed. His father stared at him for a few moments and sighed, placing his hands away from concealing his face.

" Dib. I can't help you if you won't let me. If you won't tell me what it is you hate so much about that kid, then there is no determinable way that I can help you solve those problems, a-a-and for you to see that there is not point to this useless feud. I just can't." He said, shaking his head. Dib's lips thinned

" It's the reason why you think I need help in the first place is where your wrong." He knew better than to reply in such an impertinent fashion, however it never failed to anger him that people that he had mental or sociological impediments that made him act like the way he does. It was the problem with the people, was what made him seem so seemingly insane. It wasn't his fault that they closed their eyes to any logic.

He kept his eyes down, as he felt his father's glare searching his face.

" Dib. If you can't manage to bring up your own behavior, and be mature enough to face your own problems—"

" Why am I getting in trouble?" Dib asked, finally looking up to his father's cold eyes, hidden behind the shiny lenses of his glasses. " When Zim was the one that started this? He's always the one that starts this and whenever I counter, I get in trouble, and Zim get's off easy. What, am I not supposed to _fend_ for myself?" He asked rhetorically, but ridden with asperity.

" Are you there when he get's scolded by his parents at his own house? If you answer no, then you can't say that he never get's in trouble."

" Zim doesn't even have parents to begin with!"

" And you would know this? Why would you know so much about this kid when you hate him so much?"

" Because he's trying to kill us!"

" Are you sure that _this_..." His father paused, and pointed at Dib, gesturing to the emotion and reasoning he just expressed. "...isn't the cause of your behavior? Irrational reasoning and impulsive emotions that make you think Zim is hunting us down?

" He's trying to destroy the planet, Dad! Not just us!"

" And why do you say that?"

" He's an alien! He came from another planet to take our lives away! It's his mission! I've seen his base! I've seen him without his disguise!" Dib confided. However after a few moments, realizing his act of yelling at his father, shifted in his seat and closed in his arms closer, a bit of a retreat. His father only stared at him for the longest moments. Unmoving, however he could feel that he took this as immature manners, and categorized it as trivial to all of his reasonings.

"...Who _else_ has seen it? Other than _you_?" He asked, solemnly. This caused a spur of emotional reactions, as Dib fought the urge to respond to it, as well as the assault it did to his feelings and pride. Dib's lips trembled, and held down the gathered, heated words. He knew if he released his unsettled emotions, it would betray his dignity. He felt his anger seethe through his body, and Dib grabbed the edges of his chair with a tight grip. His eyes felt on the verge of watering. He was tired of being mocked. Tired of looked upon as a freak because he saw the truth. His own family even belittled his ideas. Dib felt that there was no one he could trust anymore. Not even his father, for it would only profit him more scorn and humiliation, like receiving that every day of his life for being who he was at school wasn't enough already. His vision blurred over the water that filled his eyes, and turned his face away, hot blood flushing his face red.

" I have." Gaz called out. The sound of his father's clothes rustling hinted that he turned around in his chair to look back at the kitchen entrance. Dib did the same, as his heart stopped a few pulses. Gaz stood there, her hands gathered together. Her expression was unreadable, however it failed to hold back her aura of nervousness.

" What do you mean?" Their father said.

" I've seen his base..." She said, quickly. Their father sat there for a while before he scoffed lightly.

" I have." She confirmed, not entirely with confidence. " It...I never...gave it much thought...it never concerned me about his wants and his intentions of taking over the world...It just...I don't know..." She said. "...It was a while ago, and I do believe Dib is right...for a reason now I feel that I should be concerned...but I've seen Zim without his disguise, I've been inside his house and underground base..." Gaz temporarily stopped to remember that she so idiotically danced with Zim's little robot to save the earth. _Some __**way**__ of contribution_. She thought momentarily with sarcasm and removed it from mind as she continued.

" After I saw his blue prints, I guess I finally realized that—"

" Are you doing this to stand up for your brother?" He asked, with a sigh. He was settled now against the position of facing her, and he reposition his glasses. What he didn't know was that remark was another blow to his son. Gaz shook her head.

" No, honest. I saw it with him. I helped Dib on one of his...I don't know, investigations." She said, rubbing her hands together, noticing all of the horribly composed words and terms of explanation. Gaz took a deep breath and tried to relieve some of the growing anxiety. " Dib isn't lying." she confined.

Though their father gave it light consideration. After a while of one of his cold silences, he sighed, got up from the table and left the kitchen. She watched him exit and remained standing at her place, contemplating. Their father was a very incorrigible man. He didn't listen to anything without his definition of reason and logic. If he didn't experience whatever situation firsthand, or if it didn't have the required amount of evidence or authenticity that appealed to his integrity, then it didn't deserve anymore attention than that of a fallen leaf. Concerning this situation included his children, he only gave the amount of consideration it needed in his terms, and nothing more. It was one of the things she couldn't like about her father. A man of 'honesty' that knew nothing more than his own standards. Gaz exchanged looks with her older brother and she could see the redness of his eyes.

Gaz never understood exactly the type of manner that was the response to Dib's lifestyle until now. His aspirations and his curiosities to extraterrestrial life forms earned him nothing but degrading insults and mortification. Dib covered his head with his black sleeved arms and placed his head against the table. This act caused a twinge in her own emotions, and she turned around to give him his deserved privacy. Gaz entered the living room again and reclined back onto the cushions of the couch. She reached for her sketchpad and continued drawing.

However, she knew that this wasn't a viable distraction to the emotion she held. One she wouldn't admit to, for it would betray her own pride, but one she acknowledged as it was the first time she actually felt anything towards her brother. And it was something that made her wonder why she didn't feel anything in the past in the first place. Thoughts came back to the conclusion she'd made a few days earlier and as she remembered it, soon removed it from mind. She denied it was true and continued drawing.

• • •

**Next day**

Zim woke up, and as his nerves began sending recognition to his brain, he felt soreness upon the way he had slept last night. He groaned and lifted himself weakly against the surface of his research table. He'd been sitting against the already uncomfortable surface of his chairs, and he'd fallen asleep, with his back arched and head turned as he rested against his table. It kept the muscles in his neck in constant constriction and contract for him to lie so upon his table, and it rewarded him with soreness.

" Dammit." The word escaped, being the earliest he'd ever orally cursed before. In the day before, after he'd lied upon the floor before his invention, and remained in thought, he walked around his underground base for a few hours with groundless inclination to finding Gir, which could be hiding in the maze that was of his entire basement. When finding no results—expected but not preferred—he returned to his research lab, seeing they were the only ones with tables. Albeit they were meant for experimentation and built in design for easier maneuverability in said circumstances; they weren't comfortable in the least. Along with the stools he used, in combination, they weren't great substitutes for relaxation products.

As he used his body to lift himself from the surface of the table, pain spread through his body and caused involuntary spasms in areas of the past inflicted. He set himself upon his feet and wanted to oblige his taut muscles to a stretch that would usually restore a sense of flexibility to his tired body, though would only result in bolts of agony. Zim blinked and momentarily lived the moment of confusion of the unfamiliarity of his surroundings. Soon his mind processed and he remembered that he was about to activate his weapon from last night, and caused the areas to transform and shape itself accordingly to the shape of his largely-constructed ordnance.

He looked upon it's readied state, and the small touch pad that still patiently awaited for further command of activating the built in assault signals. He sighed at this and tapped against the surface, and disengaged the construct. For that was all it was. A prototype of generated ideas that had fruitfulness before it's creation. It was moronic to try and execute an attack when the product of usage wasn't even completed. Zim shook his head, and soon made his way back out of his research labs. He shivered a few times as the cold, still atmosphere caused stiffness in his motility, and wondered how he was even able to remain dormant in such a place. He ordered his computer for a transportation lift, and approached the middle of the room.

As he ascended back to the surface through the pink glass tube, his mind wandered to places intangible to the physical world, and remained in the imaginings of his mind. It even took him more than a few seconds to realize that he was at the kitchen when his eyes took identification to the vision they produced. He mounted off the toilet seat and invert arched his back, and his spine popped considerably at a few areas, though it stretched pain in his sore and recovering shoulder blade.

" Sir." The computer stood to attention. Zim ignored this as he sought the comfort of the couch, his eyes watching with an almost craving for it's welcoming stature and for any consumer's pleasure. He lied upon the delicate cushion fabric, as it adjusted to his features, reaching in the curve of his back. He sighed, after being prolonged exposed to the cold, hard steel floors of his underground laboratories, it was relieving to relish in the euphoria of homely furniture. It didn't ease the pain, however it did help with providing his senses with warmth and cushiony goodness. He closed his eyes and he was absolutely prepared for another nap, setting his head against the sturdy, yet soft armrest. The couch itself wasn't as comfy as his details exaggerated so, however anything in comparison was softer than a slap of cold steel to sleep on.

" Are you feeling alright sir?" The computer asked, with extended enunciation to the beginning two words, slightly weirded out by the awkward response to the couch. Zim considered the thought of ignoring his attempts at conversation so that he would be able to rest in peace. It was tantalizing, however he figured he would respond in disinterest as an alternative.

" Nothing to worry about." He said, shifting, his voice still gone.

"...Is there anything that troubles you?" He asked. Zim eased his breathing, and considered his question. After wards, he remembered the start to all of his anger from the day before, and glanced back at the front of his house. The windows, in his exemplified surprise, were clear and repaired. The broken glass that was in shatters wasn't even in sight, and no traceable sign of breakage was noticed. It made his day feel just a tiny brighter, adding on to the effect of his wonderful couch. He settled his head back against the armrest, with a considerable grin. Flat, and rather weak, however distinguishable with delight of the small things.

" No..." He answered confidently, raspy. There was a pause, which in all honesty Zim basked in the silence, and kept the connection between the two severed before the Computer brought up another subject.

" Did you at all meet with your test subjects?" He asked, halfhearted in the expression that he would already know the answer. Zim only took mild offense to that, not wanting to completely spoil the euphoria he firsthand experienced and shifted again. He didn't want to answer that question, knowing that if he answered in a way that wasn't expected of his highly-set-morals computer, he would receive a backlash of calm reasoning of why his decision wasn't plausible, why he should reconsider, and all of the other bull that his computer tried to feed him.

" No, I haven't." Zim said flatly, as well as he could. Another paused erupted, and this time it wasn't nearly as pleasurable as the last one, with the presence of the tensed aura between the two. The engines reared again, and Zim sighed as he readied for the upcoming assault of placid and gentle chastisement.

"..Sir, I recommend that you reconsider." _Yep. Here we go again._

" I don't see why those humans should serve as any importance to me, and I question why it does to you, Computer." Zim replied nonchalantly, however challenging.

" With all due respect, it does so because I care about the welfare—"

" Of my enemies. Of the planet and it's race that was destined to be destroyed when I arrived. Oh but I don't mind—Fraternizing with the enemy isn't a serious offense." Zim countered. It didn't hurt to talk, however it failed for a convincing tone for his raspy voice.

"...I understand that it was your mission to annihilate this race, and I know that you wish to fulfill this task set by the Almighty Tallest. However given my set of protocols that had been greatly compromised by the adaptation of my emotions, It grows harder for me to watch a people suffer as I continue to inhabit their world." Zim's brow twitched as he mentioned the Tallest.

" So you're saying you want me to discontinue my mission because you're knees are starting to buckle? I'm sorry, Computer, but you are in no place of authority to decide what I do and won't do."

" I did not assume any place of governing opinion or rule over anyone, I am here as a guide to give suggestions and to aid in your mission with investigations—"

" In that of which you haven't shown any resourceful skill for your aid in my mission." Zim hissed. The computer paused at the blow and his systems activated, and engines sounded. He released an airy sigh before he continued on.

"...Claim howsoever of my value that may please you, Sir, but I simply advise that you release those test subjects."

" _Why_? Why in the world would I _ever_ do that?" He asked, genuinely confused and annoyed. " Why must you ask me these questions? Why in the world do you think that I would ever do anything to _relent_ from these creatures? You _see_ what they do to me." He said, standing up in a jolt and gesturing to his body.

" You see what they did to you, and yet you ask that I forgive them? A-As if they _deserve_ to be forgiven?"

" If you feel vindication towards them, I _would_ suggest that you would allow it to pass through time. However I will say that you will towards it to those who mistreat you, not to unsuspecting children you see viable for your experiments." The Computer stated.

" They are of the same species! It doesn't matter who I pick for my experiments, either way I'm going to _kill_ them! _That's_ why I'm here! To _kill_ all of these people!"

"...Not anymore."

Zim's heart paused for a moment and he stuttered to say anything. However he quickly overgrew in the situation and glowered.

" What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he said, taking it in as a threat and not what the small voice in the corner of his mind was suggesting it to be.

"...You said so yourself, Invader Zim...I monitor what happens around the house, and inside...If I didn't, I wouldn't transport you from the underground and surface levels of your base...I wouldn't take care of your experiments when you're busy..." He said, lowly. "...I...I know what happened on that day. I saw the event take place."

Zim's eyes widened and he remained as a statue for a considerable amount of time. His eyes searched almost for reasoning, or explanation, over the face of the television. His insides ran rampant with emotions, however he managed to only reveal this with the small amount of trembling in his fingers. He sat down slowly and his watched the floor, pensively. He'd said _that event_. Zim momentarily thought that the Computer knew he wouldn't like it to be addressed any other way.

"...I thought you would appreciate knowing you were the only one who knew about it." He said. For a reason, there were times where the Computer would try and use words that accentuated his vocabulary, and other times he casually spoke. Zim noted this however removed it from mind the second later. He reclined against the couch, with his head resting once again at the armrest, and his eyes staring at the ceiling. He remained like this, until he turned over on his side, facing the couch.

For a reason, it never occurred to Zim that his computer would've known about what had happened. It never came to thought that he would've even have heard or seen it. He was too shrouded by blinding emotions and occupied trying to accept the situation himself, for him to realize that he was still in the presence of his subordinates. Rather less, his companions in this ugly world. Now that he knew about it, he remembered all of the details about what happened that day. All the ones said to him, and his reaction after wards. It was more than just embarrassing to know that he didn't suffer that moment alone. It was dishonorable, having shown his weakness and revealing himself in a manner so shamefully low.

"...It isn't a bad thing, Sir...that much I can assure you." His computer remarked.

"...Meaning...?" Zim asked, discouraged.

" It's not bad the way you reacted, if that is why you're upset."

Zim further ignored his words, knowing that his computer wouldn't know anything pertaining to the ethics and standards of an Irken. Even more so, an Invader. He temporarily wished that he could go back in time in order to prevent that occurrence from happening. Smack himself across the cheek before he would allow his idiotic emotions from taking hold of him.

" Oh...sir, it's currently 7:30." The computer reminded. Zim at first took no heed to the information, and remained lying upon the couch. However, after the few seconds that took the time for him to remember it was a school day, a cold jolt shot up his spine.

" Oh, Computer! It's Tuesday!" He exclaimed, partially to himself. Zim shot up from the couch and retrieved his wig and eye contacts. He entered the kitchen and grabbed his mirror, as he frantically placed his hair on and carefully applied the flimsy films of plastic upon his eyes.

" I need you to call me in late. I don't want to deal with detention again because of their unreasonably reinforced rules of conduct." Zim said, making a hurried scrutiny of his details. As he placed the mirror back down, he considerably bolted out of the kitchen before he stopped at the door, mentally and physically.

" Oh, and don't forget your umbrella! It's going to rain again today." The computer shouted. Zim wasn't paying attention.

In no form or fashion, had he made himself look so _eager_ or _urgent_ to abide by the school rules. And in no way for or fashion did he like attending there. He raged in that moment how manipulative he'd become over the past few weeks, and smacked himself in the forehead at how embarrassing it was to express such foolish qualms. To avert such tendencies from happening again, he would _walk_ to school. Not in a hurry. Not _urgent_ at _all_.

" Is something wrong?" The computer asked, slightly concerned.

"...Everything." Zim answered with a groan, before opening the door to the closet, retrieving the item and exited the house.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 " Let's Get to Know Each other! "**

Gaz thumbed the ovate and square buttons upon her device and rapidly fought against the Stunker trolls that were deteriorating her life. As much attention as the game required for her to be able to remain alive, mashing buttons and killing foes, it didn't attract her interest. The little pixelated heroine, heart racing with adrenaline as she nimbly evaded the forceful swings and attacks of the barbaric, raging trolls and counteracted with swift thrusts and swings of her gleaming, pristine sword of justice, chastening the savage, uncivilized creatures of their corrupt nature with her bravery and moralized intent—_trite. Complete unoriginal game play. Cliched and predictable story plot and characters...trite was the __understatement __word._

Gaz thought, as she turned off her Gameboy and combed her hands through her orthogonal, magenta tresses. She sighed, annoyed that she wasn't able to find anything to occupy her time with anything fun on her off period. Because then to do nothing would be a waste of time. Gaz looked around the rugged cafeteria, and saw some of the other groups of kids that were there, chattering loudly, laughing joyously. For a moment, she wished for something like that. Not that she was jealous, but having someone to talk to was always a nice thing to do. Then again, being a socialite wasn't her thing.

Gaz shrugged the idea and looked out the window of the lunch room and watched the rain patter against the ground, making the world have a tint of blue as it showered water upon the crust of the earth. Gaz placed her hand against the surface of the glass, and her nerves tingled from the cold. She watched outside, daydreaming for a while.

" Excuse me." A dean called, and she glanced to her right, slightly startled.

" I need an I.D. It has a verification code that shows you're off this period." He said, holding a portable I.D. scanner. Gaz grumbled and grabbed her backpack, fishing through her pockets. " Just standard procedure, ma'am." He remarked, as he noted her attitude.

She handed him her I.D card and he revealed the bar code to the infrared laser feed and it beeped. He gave it back and continued on to the next group of students. Gaz couldn't lie that she liked how this school, compared to her elementary one, people had a sense of common generosity and manners. Even if it was just because he said excuse me, her last school was the epitome of disrespect.

Gaz sighed again and grabbed out her sketchbook. In art class, as they were still in the unit of learning pose, she was assigned to draw someone doing an action pose. The easiest she thought she could do was dancing, however, it proved to be more difficult than expected. Even though Ms. Zoe provided a presentation for them to take notes on efficiently sketching a pose with fluid lines and shapes, Gaz always noticed how...inept she looked in comparison to the work of her art teacher. Although it was to be expected, considering the age gap in between, and the length of knowledge and experience she had. It didn't mean it wasn't unfair...at least in her little world.

Gaz looked around the cafeteria and noticed Zim wasn't present. It was one thing her brother hated the living guts of him, but it was another to have an off period at the same time he did. She would always find him mumbling to himself, glaring at people or just sleeping. Either way, despite the distance they kept, it was uncomfortable to be in the same room with him. He seemed to hold a hatred of the same gravity towards her as he did her brother, however she didn't care. So long as he didn't mess with her, he wouldn't get another bottle to the kisser. She was able to relax a bit, without feeling as if she was being watched. Gaz also considered the fact it was raining, and so that would be one of the reasons why he wasn't here. A grin appeared on her face as she realized she would spend a Zim-free day, and not have to listen to the annoying rambling of her brother and how much he hated him.

Just as she was thinking of how glorious this day was going to be, Zim walked through the entrance. She immediately scowled and shot her gaze back to the window.

_Curse his persistence_. She thought, grinding her teeth, as she began drawing.

• • •

Dib kept in his seat as the population of the classroom vividly revived as the bell rung, and they stood up almost simultaneously. The students amalgamated as they slivered outside the doors and exited the room. He sighed as he kept his belongings upon the platform of his desk. It wasn't that he wanted to go to lunch, considering he never ate their food in the first place, but the atmosphere of a classroom always held a sense of enclosure, and duress. He had to stay after class to finish some late work in Ms. Pamela's class. She smiled widely as she glanced upon him.

" You stay there Dib. I'm going to the restroom so I'll be back." She said, chirpy. Dib nodded, and further buried his head in his assignment. One thing that was surely in great behoove was Dib's ability of math. From an earlier stage, he wanted to learn the extraterrestrial life, and the fantastical forms that fascinated his mind so he could understand about the supernatural. In sequence, he also took a fancy to engineering, which required a set of skills and knowledge that mainly involved mathematics to be able to engineer such projects.

Dib scribbled answers on the paper and showed his work, one of the annoying required aspects that was a daily reminder in Ms. Pamela's class. He wrote down formulas, and equations that were equivalent to the given problems and their scenarios. If necessary, he created graphs and tables for a display. As he was near to finishing his work, a ring tuned through the school's overheads and it usually was an indication that someone was calling to advise the school. Dib listened intently.

" Pardon the interruption, teachers and students, but can I get Dib Membrane, and Zim to the main office? Thank you." The clerk spoke and ended the call.

Dib suffered a long moment of exasperation and anger. It was one thing that Zim started another food fight the day before, and forever stained Dib's favorite jacket with the disgusting smell of putrid grease and funky vegetables, but another thing to meet up with your worst, detestable rival in detention, after you'd exacted your revenge. In this case, breaking his windows. Dib scratched his head, and ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn't looking forward to any of this. And as Dib stood up, readying himself to walk out the door, and face impending doom, a rock formed in his stomach, just to top it all off.

" I hate _everything._" Dib muttered.

* * *

" I hate _everyone_." Zim hissed. He stood up from the lunch table and threw away his food. The other kids around him all echoed a resonating _ooh_ in suspense as he walked out of the door, some kids even giggling. He would never understand, or care, why the kids didn't seem to have intelligence. They were all insane, in their own ways. It was something that Zim hated about this race. Unpredictable, little demons.

Zim strode through the cold, dank hallways, heading over to the office. For a moment he remembered how the office was the only place that was cleaned regularly, for the shiny appeal of the glass and it's inside rooms that almost glinted. The rest of the school seemed to be in a crust of dirt and stains. Despite it's rather horrid appearance, this unsanitary state was a mere speck in comparison to his older school. Zim realized his situation and groaned to himself, wondering temporarily what mistake, what _grave_, _**hideous**_ mistake must he have done, in order to be compelled to listen to the inferiors and their orders. It disgusted him, however he knew that it was best if he didn't become an enemy of this race, concerning their authorities and government were so shady.

As he began to see the small glassy room, approaching it, he also saw Dib already present in the office, chatting with the clerk. At that moment, a small rock formed in his stomach, however he wouldn't live to acknowledge it. He furrowed his eyes, formed a sneer and continued his way towards the doors. He caught the glance of his rival, and ignored it. Zim sat at the sofa, and Dib was seated at the chair opposite to the side of the clerk's desk. He watched him for a while before he resumed speaking to Ms. Durham. She eyed the two inconspicuously, as the aura of the room tightened, and contorted itself from calmness into excited spite, thickening of unripe hostility.

After another minute, a separate door in the other side of the room opened, and a woman approached the two, earning their looks. She smiled at their reaction, and she seemed to be slightly elderly as well. Her hair was a diluted brunette, that matched the color of her ironed khakis.

" Good, you're both here." She said, grinning, with an aged voice. " Please. Come into my office." She remarked, gesturing invitation to her room. They both got up simultaneously, fought silently for a moment of who would enter the room first, and then walked through the door. She sat down at the end of a large rectangle table, and spread out were a couple of files. The two sat at the opposite sides of one another, the aura following them into this one. The woman was about to begin talking, before she noticed the open door. She got up slowly and walked to the door in a leisurely, thoughtful pace.

" As you may know, I am the assistant principal, Mrs. Everett." She introduced. Everett shut the doowr, and sat down at the side of the table closest to the door, and wove her fingers together as she placed them against her chin. " Principal Downing has asked me to have this meeting everyday of the school week, every lunch period." She explained, making sure to get lengthy looks at both of them for their understanding. However, they both had confused expressions.

" _Why_?" Zim asked, quiet spitefully. He cleared his throat afterwards, his sore throat still in partial effect. Mrs. Everett blinked slowly.

" Well, because, Mr. Zim. Last week Friday, you two fought and gave each other shiners, as well as causing a food fight." She said, with flattened lips. " Just this Monday you two started _another_ food fight. Parents were called and you two were going to receive suspension." Everett said, sighing through her nostrils. She kept her eyes at Zim, and it made a muscle in his jaw jump.

" But we, rather Principal Downing, decided a better method of tactics." She motioned to Dib, accompanied with a small whisper _Be a __d__ear and grab those, would you?_ And Dib grasped the couple of papers opposite of Mrs. Everett. He handed to them and another whisper of _Thank you_ escaped her mouth. Then Everett equally divided the sheets and handed them their designated papers. She cleared her throat and waited an appropriate 30 seconds for them to absorb the contents.

" Bullying is a serious offense in school. The District in this state does not tolerate any sort of violence." Mrs. Everett began, as they read the documents. Zim read, eyes skimming over the words, and soon began gaping his jaw. " By decree of the law, bullying should be met with a fine, and a visit to juvenile hall." She remarked.

Zim's eyes shot up at her. She nodded in response to this.

" However...you parents agreed to this situation, and the principal enforced it." Mrs. Everett said, receiving both of their horrified looks.

" You two are going to start community service. You both will work for 18 hours, and it will be of your choosing on what you do, from the list of options you have right there." She said, pointing at their papers. Zim looked down and briefly read the list of the available sets of areas they were provided. And to his horror; The Mall, school janitorial assistance...and Bloaty's Pizza Hog. He recalled the times of his visits to all three of the situations and suffered a slow, creeping chill that crawled his spine.

" This community service will help undo the fines that you parents have been issued and the possible order of Juvenile hall. And this is required also for a grade." She said, with a slight nod. Dib's mouth gaped.

" This is ridiculous!" He exclaimed. Mrs. Everett game him a long stare.

" It is, really. You two always fighting. That's why we issued this. Because this needs to be put to an end."

" You can't _force_ us to do this. You can't force us to do _anything_." Zim retorted, raspy. He received another one of her solemn glances.

" It's either this..." She said, tapping at the document she had underneath her arms. " Or..."

Mrs. Everett turned her sheet of paper around, and equipped a pair of glasses seemingly out of no where. Her eyes quickly skimmed the lines, as if to refresh her memory as what the contents were about. She looked up at both of them, once retrieving enough information to jog her memory back into place.

" We get to know each other."

For a minute almost, they stared at her. Their minds reeling over the few amount of words she said, trying to grasp the meaning behind it. Though they feared what they knew, and they both shared the same want of wishing it wasn't true.

"...What?" Dib asked, shaking his head. Everett removed the glasses from her nose and gingerly placed them against the table.

" You two either do community service...or get to know each other." She repeated.

" What does that mean?" He asked, hesitantly. A small smile formed on Mrs. Everett's face. One that, for a reason unknown, was unnaturally foreboding for the both of them.

" Like I said before, if you choose this option, we're going to meet everyday, during lunch, in this office." She began, leaning forward, as if she were listening to an extraordinarily intriguing tale. This alarmed a red light for Zim.

" You two will start sharing your lives. About the things you like. The things you do, your habits, your dislikes, your happiest events and whatnot. When the time comes, you two will start doing teamwork, and eventually, _hopefully_, at the end of this semester, will finally tolerate each other." She said, placing her fingers back against her chin.

There was a bit of a silence, as well as a prolonged state of daze. Mrs. Everett waited patiently for them to let the information soak, and for them to begin processing naturally. After a while, she stacked her papers and set them down neatly in front of her, with no more stray edges.

" Interestingly enough, You father actually proposed this idea, Dib." She remarked. Dib's eyes broadened with appall, and his lips lowered. Zim glared at him and when Dib noticed, his expression lessened, heedlessly ignoring his rival's emotions.

"You two will make a choice. I'll be back in a few minutes, I have to make a few calls. I know you two won't mind not eating for another 10-20 minutes, concerning your spontaneous habit to test your arm. And remember; its's either you both agree, or I choose." She said, getting up from the office chair that groaned as she lifted her weight from it. Everett opened the door and left without another word. Zim watched a while longer, as the door slowed down as it neared to the frame, and closed with a securing latch. He blinked slowly and released a sigh, before he glanced back at the creature in front of him. Spite surely enough began to swim through his veins.

" Just because I know you so well, I can already predict which option you so moronically will choose." Zim began, his voice faltering.

" I'm not doing this because I want to." Dib retorted, with his eye twitching already from the idea.

" And it's not like you're being forced."

" What my Dad wants for me is what's best." Zim groaned to the best of his ability. Which conveniently for him, sounded to close to a _moan_, and lowered is head against his palms, partly from embarrassment.

" Oh, great. You always have to bring in your damned father, don't you?"

" Last I recall, it was he who did it himself. I have no choice in what my father wants me to do."

" Because you're such a brown noser."

" Oh, alright Zim. You got me." Dib scoffed.

" The thing is I don't even need to explain it to you. Hell, you know it's bad when _other_ people see it too."

" Really now?"

" And you know it's _worst_, when you deny it." Zim said.

" I'm in denial of my own supposed _deference_? Wow...that's something new altogether...I didn't think you would reach _that_ level of stupidity, but...then again you've surprised me more than once." Dib smirked. Zim's eyes furrowed and were laden with annoyance.

" Petty insults don't get you anywhere, Dib."

" Oh ho! This coming from **you**? Zim? I don't even **need** to begin this conversation for you two know THAT is way ironic." Dib laughed. Zim's eyelid twitched.

" I bet your father sees it. That would be another _surprise_ for you, wouldn't it?" Zim asked, staring intently. He coughed a bit, and momentarily hated his inexpressive voice. Dib's expression faltered slightly, and became more blank as he kept his eyes upon him. " It's definitely a surprise for me how you refuse to acknowledge it. All of the truth, just...ignoring for your own sake."

" Nothing you say is going to make you look any better, Zim." Dib sighed, scratching his head.

" I don't _need_ to say anything. That's just it." Zim retorted.

" You keep telling yourself that...whatever helps you sleep at night." Dib dismissed. Zim formed a small sneer on his face. It was petty to get annoyed that his insults weren't effective like wanted them to be, however he wasn't in the right mind to notice.

" I don't sleep."

" Well..._kudos_ to you, _alien_." Dib spat. " I could care less."

" You think this is amusing, don't you?" Zim said, glaring.

" There are multiple directions to where that question is pointed to..." Dib remarked, and paused for a bit. "...But yes, I do." Zim shook his head, cursed under his breath, and glanced to his side; momentarily enjoying the pause of relieving his vision from facing such a monstrosity.

" What point are you _trying_ to get across? Other than pitifully insulting the fact I have a dad?" Dib asked, with a grin. Zim glanced back at him.

" A point you continually refuse to see."

" Oh. So you're _concerned_ now. Aw. Take you concern and stick it." Dib mocked.

" Like I would suffer myself to be troubled for your welfare."

" Then don't act like it, seriously, it's disgusting."

Zim leaned forward.

" It's sad really. Sad that you live in your own little world and just shun out everything that you don't like." He remarked. Dib only kept his grin, surprised that Zim was going to try and go so far just for an argument. His pitiful attempt of getting the upper hand. So Dib kept light of this, and showed it with his disinterest and sarcasm.

" I know, it's _overwhelming_." Dib joked.

Zim's eyes narrowed.

" I bet that all began when your Mom died."

Then all of his sarcasm soon vanished. In turn, it relieved a wave in Zim, as he saw it happen so, his eyes being the reflection of his insides.

" That's right, I know about that...I tracked into the databases of police department and found files of your family; Namely the obituary of your mother's death." Zim said. " Poor ol' Mummy, dying of cancer...And because she was no longer there to be the one who adored you, you clung to your father."

Dib had a contorted glare on his face from this. He retracted his eyes from Zim's face and closed them, pensive. His hands were brought up to his lips and he wove his fingers. Dib let the childish insult retreat from his anger and he released it in a long sigh through his nostrils. He then re-opened his eyes.

" Like you would know_ anything_."

" It was your silence just now that did the talking. Your voice never conveys much information." Zim said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms slowly. " All you do is speak to be an annoyance."

" More of a dignified reason than any one you can come up with yourself." Dib said, eyes narrowing. For the first time, Dib was seething. Zim could see right through his eyes. On the inside, he was burning like fire and it was raging through his body like a stampede. A vein pulsed on Dib's forehead, and if he weren't mistaken, he was a shade red, more than before. Zim grinned again at this, a wonderful feeling of accomplishment sleeved his body like silk. He let the pathetic comeback slide.

" Is that so?" He said, with an air of amusement " Because being an obsequious suck up is more dignified than anything else? Because that is the only other thing you speak about. _Daddy this, __d__addy that._" Zim remarked, laughing. _There goes that pulse again_. He thought as well, seeing animosity in Dib's eyes reach another level of heights. There wasn't even another comeback; just a pitiful glare and a silenced temper tantrum.

" And the sad part is; You dad doesn't give a **damn**. He see's you, and reaches for his career. You follow a person who tries to _avoid_ you, Dib. He doesn't even _care_."

" And how would you know this? Huh? Because you just know _every_ damn detail of my life, is that it?" Dib asked, impatiently. Zim grinned, his teeth becoming exposed. He was absolutely enjoying this. Dib cursed for the first time, displaying just how much he was willing to betray his own composure. His bouncing knee from his repeatedly lifted heel, his now scarlet face. Zim was hitting deep, but he knew that for the benefit of his dad, Dib wouldn't do _shit_ to him. A delightful chill of excitement ran through his veins, and he laughed, rather raspy, but this time added to the effect.

" I know it because you keep telling me. Every moment of all the times you've followed me to my house and broke in, or thrown your disgusting food in my face, or insulted me—You were practically _yelling_ in my face." Zim scoffed.

" That wasn't for the **benefit** of the people. That was _you_ trying to make yourself _worth_ something. You trying to go your own way. But you _always_ went back to father's lap after wards, Didn't you?" He asked. Dib's eyes were heavily set upon his face, under the constant scowl and scrutiny of his sworn enemy. He could tell thoughts of mad intent had already entered his mind, and for once Zim felt in control. For once, he felt he was finally getting the upper hand, and pushing Dib down further. This moment wasn't going to be wasted.

" And the only reason why you still insult me, and still antagonize me, because you don't get the recognition you wanted from poor ol' daddy. Because you were disappointed in yourself, and so you vent it on the same excuse; I'm doing it to save the planet. Tell me, Dib, What good does your planet get from every time you say, ' _Fuck_ you, Zim.' Huh? Does it _applaud_ and give you a medal for saving the world another day, with another insult?" Zim asked cynically. Dib's hands fell from his mouth, and down to his knees, where he gripped them intensely, wrinkling the fabric of his jeans.

Zim let a smaller grin crease his face, showing just how lightly he took to his emotions that Dib was expressing. And the actions that he _wasn't_.

" What good does it to _you_? Fucking hell, the people at _school_ hate the living guts of you." He shook his head. " I'd say it would restore the small amount of dignity you hold, however that would be the lowest of the low. Making your life revolve around the people you hate..._whew_." He said, placing his elbows against the table. " That's exponentially **beyond** pathetic."

Dib's eyes fell to the table, and even with his endeavors of keeping his temper, his anger and spite was spilling like a turned on faucet at it's highest velocity. His eyebrows were heavily furrowed against his eyes, and his glasses shined in the light. His expression, the deathly sneer that was constant on his face, could be considerably daunting if it were another person. Dib wasn't a daunting person. Zim lowered his head, catching his gaze.

Dib saw this and he looked up at him, restless, spiking hatred running throughout everywhere of his body, it's main focus out from his eyes to him. Zim grinned and leaned back into his seat, feeling accomplished. No..._triumphant_. The warmth of satisfaction spread through his body, as he saw his opponent crumble, slowly, painfully on the inside. _It's what he deserves_. Zim thought, with a ludicrous smile. Then a light grin crossed Dib's face. It didn't express any pleasure, and it definitely didn't lighten the features of his face. It was solemn, hateful amusement.

" You know what's funny?" Dib began, wiping the bottom of his nose with his thumb, and leaned forward. His knee was still bouncing, and it made his entire body move along with his rhythm. Zim's smile slowly faded, however re-peaked as he wouldn't let his concerns fail him now.

" You speak of experience." Dib simply remarked, and then shrugged apathetically.

Zim's eyes considerably widened, however, not physically. Expressively, they widened like plates. That was the crash Dib was wanting. The moment of truth. The moment that explained everything. That knife that he used to stab, bent completely backwards and attacked right back. Dib smiled his crooked grin even bigger.

" How else would you know so much? About me...I'm shunned from the kids of school. And you? You've been here for a year and nearly around a half. Why spend so much time on a planet you don't even like? Were you _exiled_?" Dib said. " And with my Dad? A parental figure? who's "disappointed" and "ashamed"...Who was it with you? The Tallest?" Dib remarked, which he received the expectant reaction, this time Zim's eyes actually widening. Then next came that ugly sneer, with his glare.

" That's right. I still remember them. I've been to your base _more_ than just _once_, Zim." Dib said, smugly. " You hate me because I still have a parent that cares about me, and I still live in a society amongst my own people. You can only _wish_ to say the same."

Zim's face didn't contort or grimace, however it stayed in the perpetual scowl of absolute spite. He could practically be labeled emotionless right now, if not for the obvious reasons why it wasn't. Dib's pulse had been racing the entire time, and he heard his heartbeat begin to decline as he settled this once again with a win on his side.

At that moment, The dark chestnut door opened and Mrs. Everett strode back into the room, with an immediate sigh. She was still looking at her papers, with her large glasses at her nose bridge.

" My apologies, that took so long. Thought that should've been enough time for you two to decide." She remarked, finally looking up from the white sheets, and saw the two, seemingly having a staring contest. For a moment she didn't say anything, given she was confused about what in the world was happening. Though she blinked and watched a little longer.

" _Have_ you two decided yet?" She asked, confused. Dib continued staring at Zim's expression a little longer until he glanced back at Mrs. Everett.

" Yes, Mrs. Everett. We have." He said, and shot another look at Zim before Dib got up from the chair. " We chose to speak." He answered.

Mrs. Everett wasn't stupid; judging by how one's face had the snarl of the century, and the other the wildest grin ever, she knew they had a fierce argument. Not argument...more of a...brawl of insults. Or something rather.

She sighed and mentally noted not to leave the room anymore, or else more things would get out of hand. Feeling disappointed that she wasn't able to stop it, Everett looked down at her wrist, scrutinizing the watch as she determined the time.

" Well... You two can go back to lunch now. We're start our speaks tomorrow." She said, with a grin. Dib exited immediately, and Zim stayed behind. His eyes pierced the walls and his knee was repeatedly bouncing. He was obviously enraged. However, Mrs. Everett didn't know what to do about it. So she waited, as his lips twitched, his eyes suffused with acrimony and murderous intent, for him to leave. Though it was only after another minute that he finally got up, and left the room. She watched him go, as he slammed the door. Mrs. Everett waited a few moments and blinked. She went back to her papers and sniffed. They were gone...though the emotions, the heated words, the terrible insults and the heightened hatred and uncontrollable disdain that brimmed the room, was still here. And for a moment, it gave her a chill.


End file.
